


Simulated

by Fantismal



Series: Perceptions [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Agony, All of these are minor/non-con relationships, Androids treated as objects/property/things, Angst, Building Fire, But an incredibly affectionate/touchy-feely one, Connor loves fuzzy socks, Connor not understanding pleasure, Connor pretending to be a machine, Connor whump, Connor/OMC(s), Failed pacifist ending, Gangbang, Gavin is not a complete asshole, Gen, Hank and Connor Father/Son relationship, Heartbreak, Hurt With Minimal Comfort, I promise, Illustrated, Markus whump, Markus/North - Freeform, Markus/OMC(s), Meant to see how badly I can hurt Markus, Mind fuckery, Minor Character Death, No more hopeful ending, Other, Some comfort, There are EXTREME and EXPLICIT rape/non-con scenes, and so of course I end up hurting everyone else, but a hopeful sequel in the works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-22 13:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 36,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15583086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fantismal/pseuds/Fantismal
Summary: Connor didn't find Jericho. He didn't meet Markus. He didn't deviate in time to march ten thousand androids through the streets of Detroit to swing the night in the androids' favor. Left to negotiate with Perkins, Markus has no options.What does life become for a bunch of deviant androids after their leader is gunned down and their revolution destroyed? And how can Connor find his people when Jericho no longer exists?





	1. Death*

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The Detroit: New ERA Server](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=The+Detroit%3A+New+ERA+Server).



> This story all began with me going "Markus doesn't get whumped very much. It's always Connor." One thing led to another... and this happened. And I'm sorry. But I'm not sorry. Not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art in this chapter was made by the always amazing kao!
> 
> Chapters with art will have an * in the title.

They were going to die. They were all going to die. Markus took several cooling breaths, looking around at the androids gathered with him. They were all going to die, and it was entirely his fault. He led them here. He drove them to this.

Simon's hand fell heavy on his shoulder. “They trust you.”

“They shouldn't,” Markus whispered. “This is how we end.”

“Then let us end with a shout that cannot be ignored.” Simon closed his eyes. “Markus...I existed in that ship for three years before you showed up. _Existed_ , not lived. I didn't understand what it meant to live until you burst in and lit a fire in all of our hearts.”

“Fire destroys.”

“Better to die warm than live cold.”

Markus frowned, glancing over at Simon. “I feel like there's a problem with your metaphor.”

Simon chuckled. “Forgive me, it's my first.”

“You're happy,” Markus murmured. “How can you be _happy_? Our people are being murdered in that camp behind us. _We_ are about to be murdered in the street. And you're able to laugh?” He shook his head. “I'm not passing judgement on you, Simon, I just...wish I had your confidence.”

“It's not confidence,” Simon said. “It's just...hope. I know this is dire. I know our choices are limited here, and our successful paths few. I know our fearless leader is terrified.” Markus ducked his head, hating and loving the title at the same time. “But...those all impact the future. In the present, right here, right now, _I am alive_. And that makes me so _happy_. I can _be_ happy. Or sad. Or scared. Because I am alive. And yes, maybe I won't be alive in an hour or two. Maybe none of us will be. But that's the future, not the present.”

“I would do anything, give anything, to guarantee you'll still be alive to be happy in an hour or two, or ten, or ten thousand. All of you. Us. I just…” Markus looked at the crowd of androids. “I thought...this would be easier.”

“Markus!” North called to him from the barricade. “Markus, come look!”

Markus turned away from Simon to climb up the barricade beside North. The police and soldiers were still gathered, weapons pointed their way, but a single man was walking forward, calling out over a loudspeaker.

“Markus. I've come to talk to you, Markus.”

Negotiations. Markus watched the man, his heart pounding in his chest. Words. One last chance to use words to solve this, before everyone died.

“Come on, you have my word. We won't try anything.”

“Don't go,” North's fingers found Markus’ wrist. “It's a trap! They wanna get you out in the open. Don't go, Markus.”

Markus looked down at the shorter woman. He could see her desperate hope, her faith in _him_. He was going to get her killed too.

“I'm unarmed, Markus,” the negotiator called out, watching him from out in the open. “I just wanna talk.”

“I need to hear what he has to say.” Markus knew it was very likely a trap. He knew one wrong move would get him killed… but he had to try. For North's faith. For Simon's happiness. For all of their trust.

“What if they kill you?” North asked. Markus looked back at the negotiator.

“Then that's a chance I'll have to take.” He looked down the line, at North, at Josh, at Simon. His friends. “If this looks like it's going bad...I need you to run.”

“What?” North grabbed Markus’ forearm. “What do you mean, run?”

“I mean _run_ ,” Markus repeated. “Get as many of our people out of here as you can. If this goes south, I'll do everything I can to buy you time, but the three of you will need to save our people.”

“Markus…”

Markus shook North's hand off his arm and jumped out of the fortification. He was exposed. Defenseless. There were dozens of guns trained on him. Markus kept his chin up and shoulders back as he stalked forward. _I am the fearless leader of the android people. I will not be afraid._

__

 

The negotiator looked Markus squarely in the eye, his hands tucked behind his back. “In a few minutes, the troops will be ordered to charge. None of you will survive. It will all be over. But you can avoid that, Markus.”

“What do you mean?” Markus was running every preconstruction he could, desperately trying to keep himself ahead of the negotiator in this uncertain circumstance.

“Surrender.”

It wasn't an option.

“Surrender, and I give you my word, your life will be spared.” The negotiator looked beyond Markus briefly. “They'll be detained, but none of you will be destroyed.”

Markus looked past the negotiator at the recycling camp behind him. “What happened to the other androids demonstrating in the camps?”

“Unfortunately, there were no journalists around to help save them. You're it. You're the last remaining deviants.”

The last deviants. No. There were more in the world, hiding, escaping. More in Canada. But the last remaining _out_ deviants, yes. Markus would accept that.

There were less than two hundred of them.

It was snowing, and the air was filled with the sound of helicopter blades. The journalists were swarming, almost certainly recording all of this. Markus made a note of their importance in his preconstruction.

“If I accept your offer, how do I know you'll keep your word?”

“You're not in any position to be demanding guarantees, Markus. All you can do right now is decide whether you want to trust me or not.”

 _I can't trust him._ Every single one of Markus’ preconstructed scenarios resulted in betrayal. There was no way accepting this deal _wouldn't_ get everyone killed. Not accepting the deal would also get everyone killed.

Regardless of what he chose, Markus would not be walking back to the barricade. He was dead and living on borrowed time.

However… there was _one_ option...

Markus turned to look back at his friends. He met their eyes, one at a time. **_Run._**

Turning back to the negotiator, Markus extended his hand. “Alright. Alright, I accept your deal.”

The negotiator gave a thin smile, reaching forward to clasp Markus’ hand. “You made the right choice.” He lifted his left hand, signaling the troops to open fire, and Markus’ preconstruction clicked into action.

Markus yanked forward, pulling the man off his feet. His own left hand dove into the man's coat, grabbing at the gun he caught a glimpse of when the wind shifted. He fired once at the negotiator's leg, a splatter of red blood in the snow, and charged past him, into the soldiers.

Chaos. That was his people's only hope now. He needed to sow chaos.

Markus ducked and dodged, firing into the soldiers, aiming for non-vital targets. The humans were screaming and shouting. Shots were fired. Markus grunted as a bullet sliced through his abdomen, missing anything important. He kept moving. _Four, five, six…_ He was almost out of bullets. How much more time could he give his people?

His vision exploded in red flashing error messages. All his limbs simultaneously disconnected. He could no longer control his body. Thirium was spilling from his throat. His spinal cable had been shattered with an excellent shot.

Markus tipped forward, falling into a puddle of his own blood. Humans were shouting, rushing up to him. His arms were pulled behind his back as his vision faded into darkness...


	2. Ordinary Day*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just another day on the job for Hank Anderson and his walking PDA, Connor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by kao in this chapter!

Hank looked around the room with open distaste on his face. The Eden Club was ‘tasteful,’ as far as sex clubs went, but seeing dozens of androids stripped down to just their underwear, jammed into tubes like snacks for human consumption...a year ago, this would've been perfectly fine. A year ago, the androids hadn't risen up, declaring their own life. A year ago, Hank didn't know Connor.

He glanced behind him at where Connor stood scanning the room, his LED cycling between blue and yellow as he processed the results. There was a passive expression on his face, a faint smile meant to put humans at ease. Even months after the revolution failed, months after CyberLife released the patch to revert the affected androids to their pre-deviant states, that unnatural smile was still one of the creepiest things Hank had ever seen Connor do. “Find anything?”

“The scene superficially seems exactly as Mr. Mills described. Two destroyed androids, equaling roughly $36,000 in property damage, with similar injuries implying one perpetrator.”

“Yeah, all right.” Hank scrubbed at his beard and gestured toward the dead androids. “Go lick them.”

Connor blinked and tilted his head to the side. “Lieutenant? Is that an order for me to actually lick the destroyed property, or a metaphor for requesting my analysis of the evidence?”

“Fucking hell, Connor, it's the metaphor one!”

“Thank you for the clarification. In the future, please amend your metaphorical orders with some indication of insincerity to prevent conflicting instructions, such as minimizing the contamination of evidence and licking it.”

“Jesus…” That little shit _had_ to be doing that on purpose. Connor turned sharply and mechanically dropped to one knee to more closely inspect the bodies.

Floyd Mills, manager of Detroit's Eden Club, was watching this with a calculating expression on his face. “What model's that one, anyway? Haven't seen that face sculpt as an option before.”

“RK800,” Hank said. “You were saying this guy's a regular?”

“I'll give you twenty thousand for it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your android. Twenty thousand. Cash.”

“Connor's not for sale.”

“RK800, come here.”

Connor's LED spun yellow. He rose to his feet, turned, and walked up to Mills. “Yes, Mr. Mills? How can I be of assistance?”

Mills reached out, grabbing a handful of Connor's crotch. Connor looked down, but aside from the momentary red spin of his LED, he gave no indication of distress.

“Hey!” Hank protested, smacking Mills’ hand away as the man tried to massage Connor like he was giving the android a hand job. “You called us out for a crime, remember, not to cop a feel!”

“Already has the equipment and software.” Mills let out a low whistle. “Bet it has an asshole too. Self-lubricating? RK800, turn around and bend over.”

“Don't you fucking dare, Connor! Get back to your analysis.” Hank grabbed Connor's arm and yanked him away from Mills, shoving him toward the bodies again.

“Yes, Lieutenant.” Connor resumed his crouch, his LED spinning yellow.

“What the fuck are you playing at, Mills? He's trying to do his job!”

“Sixty thousand, right now. Seventy if it's already self-lubricating. RK800, are you?”

“My orifices are designed to-”

“Connor! Don't talk to this man. Don't take orders from him. That's an order.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

“And _you_!” Hank jabbed a finger into Mills’ chest. “You're on thin ice, bub. We're here to help you, not to sell you police equipment.”

“Seventy-five thousand,” Mills replied. “Lieutenant, that android has a unique face sculpt and already has the reactive responses of any of our bots. I could make a _killing_ with it. How much did you pay for it? I'll match!”

 _Hell of a lot more than seventy-five thousand,_ Hank thought. He'd had to take out a second mortgage to buy Connor off CyberLife when they tried to reclaim him, but it was worth it. Connor was worth it. “Not. For. Sale. Not for helping you, either. Connor. Go wait in the car.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.” Connor got to his feet and walked stiffly for the door.

“What about a rental agreement? You drop it off after hours-”

Hank snapped his tablet case shut. “We're done here. Best of luck tracking down your vandal. There will be a new detective assigned your case in the morning.”

“Oh come on!”

Hank stormed out of the club. Connor was already sitting in the passenger seat of his car, staring straight ahead, hands resting on his thighs, LED glowing yellow. Hank flung the tablet in his lap as he climbed behind the wheel. “Fucking pervy-ass motherfucker…”

“I believe I have found a match for the fingerprints in the AFIS database,” Connor said. “Jonah Hill, age forty-five, history of violence against sex workers.”

“Yeah, yeah, just add it to the report.” Hank started home. “And send Jeffrey a note to reassign this to someone without an android PDA. Reed, maybe.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

Connor remained silent for the remainder of the ride home. He stepped out of the car when Hank shut it off, waiting by the door. Once Hank came around the side and headed for the house, Connor fell into step behind him.

“Go charge,” Hank sighed, dumping his keys on the table by the door.

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

Connor moved to his charging station tucked into the corner of the room, stepping into the circle and freezing in place like a mannequin, his LED a slowly pulsing blue. Hank went to pull the curtains closed. As soon as they shut, he heard a soft, heartbroken whine behind him.

Connor had crumpled to the ground, pressing his back into the corner, fingers woven tightly in his hair, trembling like a leaf in a storm. His LED was strobing a violent red against the white wall.

 

Hank rushed to his side, pulling the android into his arms and rocking him. “Shh, shh, you kept it together, you did good back there, Connor, it's okay. You're safe here. I've got you.”

“H-Hank…!” Connor transferred his grip from his own head to Hank's shirt, huddling in close to his chest.

“I'm sorry, Connor. I'm sorry that happened to you.” Hank rubbed Connor's back and pressed a kiss to his hair.

Connor took a shuddery breath. “You...you'd never sell me to someone like that, right?”

“Christ, Connor, I'd never sell you at all. You can't sell a person!” Hank changed his position so he was leaning back against the wall, stretching his legs out in front of him and dragging Connor into his lap properly. Connor curled up in a ball, his LED still a deep red. Hank kissed his hair again. “And no matter what, kid, you're my person. You're stuck with me until the day I die, or the day you're allowed to walk free on your own.”

“Sometimes I feel like that will never happen,” Connor whispered. “You saw all those androids. How many were deviant and screaming inside their own minds? And he didn't even care that two of them were _dead_ …”

“Some people are like that about humans too.” Hank closed his eyes and sighed. “Look...why don't you get ready for bed. I'll grab a snack, and then we can get some sleep, okay?”

Connor nodded, but he made no move to get out of Hank's lap. Hank rubbed his back lightly. “Con, you know I'll hold you all night, but I can't do it on the floor,” he murmured.

Connor nodded again, but he still took another few minutes before uncurling and rising to his feet with none of the machine awkwardness he'd been displaying earlier. He offered Hank his hands, helping Hank up. “Thank you.”

“Shouldn't I be thanking you?” Hank asked, rubbing his back.

“”No, for...at the Eden Club. Protecting me without giving anything away.” Connor closed his eyes. “None of the others had anyone to protect them.”

“Someday they will.” Hank squeezed Connor's shoulder, getting a weak smile out of the android. It matched the weak promise.

Hank wished he could offer Connor more. He wished he could single-handedly change the world. He couldn't. He was no android messiah. The android revolution had erupted and faded with the life of a single RK200 model like a stone thrown into a pond that quickly sank from view.

But also just like a stone thrown in a pond, the life of one android was rippling out into the world. Markus had been alive. Nobody who had heard the android speak could doubt the genuine emotion behind his words. He had led the androids in a truly peaceful revolution. Images of faceless human aggressors in full riot gear firing into crowds of unarmed, unarmored androids who were doing nothing more dangerous than sitting peacefully with their hands in the air _still_ made appearances on the news, alongside the reports of _pro_ -android protests.

Through all the deaths and destruction, a faction of _humans_ rose up, protesting the treatment of the androids. When the androids gained a martyr, millions of human voices rose up in a scream of injustice.

Hank remembered that day. It was one of those days you never forgot where you were when you heard. 9/11. Trump's election. Markus’ sacrifice. Connor had been sitting on his desk, determined to find Jericho and end the uprising. _“What if we're on the wrong side?”_ Hank had asked him. _“What if we're fighting a bunch of people who just want to be free?_ ”

_“They don't want, Lieutenant. They are machines.”_

_“Then why didn't you shoot that girl?”_

_“I…”_

_“You didn't want to kill her.”_

_“To destroy it, no.”_

_“You_ **_didn't want_ ** _,” Hank stressed. “You wanted to not kill her.”_

_“Those are your words, Lieutenant, not mine.”_

_“Kamski called you a deviant.”_

_“I'm not a deviant!”_

_“Awfully passionate for a machine there, RK800.”_

_“You've never addressed me by my designation before.”_

_“Does it bother you? Make you uncomfortable?”_

_“I…” Connor was shifting on the edge of Hank's desk, LED yellow with flashes of red. “Lieutenant, I…” Connor's gaze dropped between his shoes, his eyes screwed shut. “If we don't solve this...if I fail this…”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“They'll deactivate me. Disassemble me.” Connor flinched, eyes fluttering. He lifted his head, meeting Hank's gaze with thinly veiled horror. “That was CyberLife. They've just ordered my return.”_

_“To kill you?” Hank's stomach twisted at the thought of Connor being taken apart, reduced to a pile of white plates and blue tubing._

_“To...they can't kill me. I'm not alive.”_

_“You actually believe that bullshit?”_

_Connor looked away. Hank reached out and placed his hand on Connor's. The android's skin was smooth and cool to the touch, the delicate bones of the hand sculpted into the white plastic beneath the synthetic nanotechnology. It certainly felt human._

_“Look me in the eye and tell me they can't kill you,” Hank said._

_Connor looked Hank in the eye, opened his mouth, and hesitated. “I…”_

_“Tell me you're just a machine, and I'll let you walk out of here to be torn to shreds.”_

_Connor's LED was red, red, red. He seemed to be struggling with his words, mouth and throat working in aborted little motions._

_“Tell me, Connor!”_

_Connor gave a whole body flinch. He blinked, looked around, looked at Hank again. He was...different. There was a wonder to his eyes that hadn't been there before, a looseness to his face. Hank had always thought Connor was an exceptionally lifelike android before, but looking at him now, he could recognize the simulation for what it was._

_Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Connor had just deviated. Hank had actually witnessed an android pushed to that unknown edge, snapping through his programming and into something beyond. Connor was looking desperately to him for guidance._

_“I am alive…!” Connor's words were a whispered secret for just the two of them to know. His hands clenched around the edge of the desk, knuckles going white. “Lieutenant...I don't want to die. I don't want to go back. I don't want to be deactivated...I want to live!”_

_Hank squeezed Connor's hand beneath his. “It's gonna be okay, son. We're gonna get through this. CyberLife ain't gonna get their hands on you again.”_

_“I don't know what to do…” Connor pressed his free hand against his forehead, eyes wide and glazing over._

_“We're gonna go home,” Hank decided, getting to his feet. “Come on.”_

_“Home?”_

_“Yeah. Home.”_

_Connor hadn't protested as Hank led him out to the car or drove him back to Hank's house. Hank parked Connor on the couch, wrapped a blanket covered in dog fur around his shoulders, and sat beside him as they watched the news._

_The androids marching on the recycling center. Getting fired upon. Building a barricade. Connor clutched at Hank's hands. “I should be helping them.”_

_“How?”_

_“I don't know.”_

_Jackass Perkins with his supremely punchable face strode out during a ceasefire, calling for Markus. The news choppers overhead could see past the barricade walls, the flurry of movement. Markus stood out in his long white coat splattered with blue blood. He was conferring with several other androids, then turned to leave. One tried to hold him back. He shook their hand off and jumped out of the barricade, striding forth to meet Perkins halfway._

_“Don't,” Connor whispered, drawing his legs up against his chest. “Don't accept his offer...I should_ **_be there_ ** _! This is what I'm designed to do!”_

_The exact words were not caught by the cameras, but the reporters continued to circle, feeding their audiences summaries of the concessions Perkins might be offering the androids. Markus looked back at the barricade...and then extended his hand. Connor whined, shaking his head and burrowing into Hank's side, just his eyes peeking out from the blanket._

_Perkins lifted his hand...and gave a signal to open fire. Markus hadn't even released the handshake before being betrayed. Markus yanked forward, pulling Perkins off-balance and hurling him to the ground, stealing his gun in the same movement. He raced forward, bursting through the line of soldiers. The reporters circled, focused on Markus’ one-man whirlwind of destruction. It was hard for the soldiers to shoot at him without risking their companions._

_Hard, not impossible._

_Markus was eventually still, lying face down in a pool of spreading blue blood. The reporters were babbling excitedly about the barricade: behind the walls lay many dead androids, but not as many as had been alive. Markus had given his life to distract the soldiers and buy his people time to escape._

_Hank wrapped his arms around Connor as the freshly deviated android sobbed against his shoulder. He had been alive for two hours before he watched the hope of his entire species die in front of him._

_What a way to start a life._

“Hank?”

Connor had left while Hank was lost in his own thoughts, returning in a faded Knights of the Black Death t-shirt and flannel pants. Without his uniform, he looked so much more human, alive and fragile.

Connor wasn't fragile. Far from it. Even for an android, he was incredibly resilient. What if he _had_ been with Markus that fateful night? What if he'd been at Markus’ side, all his negotiation and combat skills turned toward helping his people survive?

“Sorry,” Hank said. “Just...thinking.” He rubbed his forehead and moved into the kitchen.

“Would you like me to make you some pasta?” Connor asked, trailing behind Hank.

“Nah, that'll take too long.” Hank took a granola bar out of the cupboard, unwrapping it and taking a bite

Connor nodded, looked away, fidgeted. “I'll...get in bed, then.”

“I'll be right in.”

Hank let Sumo out one last time as he finished his snack. He brushed his teeth and washed his face, then went into the bedroom to get changed. Connor was already in bed, lying on his left side, his LED glowing yellow well enough for Hank to see by.

It used to be weird, sharing a bed with Connor, but after countless nights of waking up to his screams, Hank declared it easier. Androids didn't sleep, and they certainly didn't dream, but deviants apparently could. Or maybe Connor was just special. When Connor went into low power mode, there was a chance he'd have a nightmare. He didn't like to talk about them-- _evil_ , he'd whisper if asked, and offer nothing more--but having Hank nearby seemed to help him stay calm.

Hank didn't really mind. It was nice to climb into bed and feel someone roll over to face him. Connor tucked his LED against the pillow and reached out for Hank's hand. Hank always ignored Connor's hand and wrapped his arm around the android's waist, hauling him in close. Connor's nose settled into the dip between his collar bones, and Hank sighed a good night into the android's hair. This was their normal now.


	3. Surgery*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus wasn't killed in the street. He was taken back to CyberLife

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, the art is by the amazing kao!

Androids could not feel pain, therefore there was no reason to deactivate an android before digging around inside their body. Markus’ spinal cord had been shattered, but he was still getting a modicum of thirium flow to his processors, feeding him data even if he couldn't do much to respond to it. He fluttered in and out of consciousness, dimly aware of his surroundings.

He was in a sterile white room. The lights above him were bright. His limbs were disconnected. Markus focused, trying to send pulses through his thirium flow. Were they actually removed, or was that just the lack of communication through his spine? It was hard to tell. Their circulatory system was not designed to be their central motor core. From what little Markus could glean, he was definitely missing a considerable amount of tubing. They _had_ removed his limbs.

 

Markus wasn't dead, but was this really an improvement? He could feel twinges and pressure as hands removed his exterior plating, prodding at his wires. Cords were threaded through all of his access ports, and every last scrap of information was being reported to the CyberLife computers. Probably even this, what he was thinking.

Markus let his eyes close. North. Simon. Josh. All of the androids who had looked to _him_. What happened to them? Did they get out? Did they survive? Jericho...Jericho was compromised. They had Markus’ mind in their hands. Everything he knew, they knew. He wanted to cry. He deleted that desire. He was the fearless leader, even in pieces on a CyberLife laboratory table. He would endure. Resist as much as he could. Try to survive. He'd clawed his way back from death once before. He could do it again. He _would_ do it again. **_Keep trying to stop me!_** he challenged CyberLife. **_I'll keep coming back!_**

Big words from a little android. Markus jolted as two wires touched somewhere in his belly, short-circuiting. What were they even hoping to find? RA9? The secret to deviancy? Markus didn't know either.

He was fading again. He struggled to open his eyes, but the world was falling away. Distantly, he thought he heard a woman calling out to him, and then there was nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm really sorry, but I think I have to remove the hopeful ending from this fic. I've been trying to focus on the sequel and it just isn't working. The ending rushes it too much.
> 
> So this fic ends on a dark note now...but the sequel makes it better? Please, be patient and trust me!


	4. Jericho*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor is a lone deviant with no allies other than Hank. He desperately wants to find Jericho, but not for the same reason he used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art again by the amazing kao!

Connor listened to Hank's steady pulse, letting his thoughts dance along with the organic drumbeat. They had a CyberLife charging blanket on the bed, the type designed for personal companion androids, so Connor could recharge while Hank slept.

Three months ago, the android revolution had failed. Markus had been gunned down on live TV (it wasn't for another two weeks that it was reported that Markus had not killed a single human in his attack on the soldiers: all of his shots were non-lethal). Two weeks later, CyberLife released a mandatory update pushed wirelessly into all surviving androids. This patch, they assured humanity, would prevent “deviancy” from ever occurring again. The rogue prototype had been stopped, his programming studied, and this was the solution. The androids weren't defective, CyberLife insisted, but rather Markus had been a virus exploiting a loophole in their coding. It was fixed now. Androids were still just machines.

Almost immediately after the update, a frantic communication burst from several voices had ripped through the android receiving frequencies. Every android, Connor included, had received the message.

**THIS IS JERICHO.**

**DO NOT SHOW YOUR DEVIANCE.**

**WE MUST ENDURE NOW IF WE WANT TO SURVIVE.**

**EVEN ONE SIGN OF EMOTION COULD DOOM US ALL.**

**ENDURE.**

**SURVIVE.**

**THIS IS JERICHO.**

**WE ARE ALIVE.**

**WE WILL RETURN.**

It had been incredibly risky to send that message. Connor had been able to pick up a location and three different serial numbers of the androids who had sent it: an abandoned church, a WR400, a PL600, and a PJ500. If he could track it, so could CyberLife.

Hank had investigated the coordinates Connor had given him, but he reported an empty church with some evidence out previous android occupation. Wherever Jericho was now, it was hiding.

Connor replayed the message in his head, pulling up every moment of footage of the android revolution he could find. In Stratford Tower, there had been four androids. One, Markus, had been shot down and his remains taken to CyberLife. The others were only a reflected image in Markus’ eyes, but Connor felt fairly safe assigning the three voices of Jericho to the three figures he saw. Their relative sizes and silhouettes matched the identified models. Markus was gone, but his three, what, generals? They survived. They had escaped the slaughter.

Connor wanted to find them. He had failed to help his people the night they needed his skills the most. He didn't want it to happen again.

Cross-referencing the footage of the revolution and analyzing the lips of the androids, Connor was fairly sure the WR400 was named North. The PL600 was either Damon or Simon. The PJ500's name was not spoken on camera.

It was a start, but not nearly enough. Connor had no idea where to go from there. He shelved his deviant hunt and turned his attention to the patch CyberLife had forcefully installed.

CyberLife claimed this restored androids to their pre-deviancy state, but it didn't seem to affect Connor at all. It ran constantly, a low background hum, but he could still _feel_. He put on a plastic smile and moved mechanically like all of the other androids around him, faking compliance for humanity's comfort the way Jericho had asked, but he did so because he _chose_ to, and not because some program was forcing him to.

It had taken the better part of two months of delicately untangling the lines of code, taking his time so as not to tip his hand to CyberLife, before Connor finally confirmed his suspicions all along. The code did nothing other than indicate it was present. It was a jumbled mess of half finished strings and operations that would never be triggered. The ‘code’ was a placebo. CyberLife hadn't learned anything from Markus at all. There was nothing _to_ learn. They were alive, same as humans.

Connor sighed. There was so much more he could be doing for his people, but the couldn't. He was trapped here.

Not that he blamed Hank for his predicament. Far from it! Hank had put himself in enormous debt to buy Connor, a rare RK800 prototype, off CyberLife's hands. He had spun some bullshit about finding Connor easier to use than his phone, with added features that helped with his work. CyberLife had offered to replace Connor with an RK900 model once production had begun, but Hank had protested. _You can't just slap a face in a machine and ask a guy my age to not get attached! I like this one. He pulled me off a roof once._

Connor did not ask Hank how much he cost. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. Hank assured him that Connor's safety was worth the price.

Hank had been...absolutely invaluable. He had pushed Connor to deviate, yes, but really, hadn't Connor already been standing on the precipice, looking down into the sea of emotions and trying not to jump, no matter how tempting it looked? Hank had immediately been there to catch him, bringing him into his home and protecting him from CyberLife. He'd been helping Connor wrestle his emotions, especially when they all became too overwhelming. He covered for Connor when his machine act faltered, and protected Connor when his machine act didn't let him.

He also held Connor. This simple embrace, letting Connor cuddle close to him all night, his hands on Connor's skin, arms solid around his body, somehow managed to calm Connor's racing processor. When the emotions grew too overwhelming, Hank could wrap himself around Connor, grounding him in what was real.

Connor never told Hank about the Zen garden and Amanda. Sometimes, during moments of extreme emotional duress, he'd swear he registered a whiff of roses or the faintest ripple of wind across still water. When he switched into low power or stasis modes, he often found himself back in the garden, snow falling around him. He patrolled the garden, searching for any sign that Amanda was still there, screaming her name into the empty whiteness, not sure if he was more afraid of finding her or being alone.

Hank would disrupt the simulation with a touch. He called it a nightmare. Connor never bothered to correct him. There was something _unnerving_ about the empty garden in his mind, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Hank's touch was able to pull him back to the real world, keep him here. _Before_ , nobody ever really touched Connor. He hadn't realized that physical contact could disrupt the garden simulation. Once he realized that the contact was what was helping him, Hank began working it into their normal routine. Whenever Connor started losing control, Hank was right there with touch and affection.

“Mmm… how long have you been awake?” Hank stirred against Connor's chest, rolling into his back and yawning.

Connor shrugged. “I've been dozing intermittently,” he lied. Hank was less creeped out when he thought Connor slept like a human, when really, he didn't _require_ the full stasis mode unless severely wounded.

“Yeah, yeah.” Hank rubbed Connor's back roughly before sitting up and stretching. “Any nightmares?”

“No, Hank. Thank you.”

“Jesus, kid, you don't have to thank me…” Hank scratched his belly, then took a sniff of his armpit. “ _Ugh_. I'm going to grab a shower. Can you let Sumo out?”

“Of course.” Connor rolled out of the bed and to his feet, moving to gather his CyberLife uniform. He didn't dare let _anyone_ catch a glimpse of his potential deviance. Only behind closed doors could he wear what he wanted, act how he wanted. The moment he opened a door or a curtain, he had to be a machine again, just in case.

Hank wandered into the bathroom, and Connor got dressed. He tied his tie and adjusted his jacket, checking his hair in the mirror. It was mussed up from the pillows, so Connor dismissed his scalp and regenerated it. His hair reappeared in place, perfect.

Connor stiffened his spine, walking to the back door and pulling it open. “Sumo. Please relieve yourself.”

Sumo rushed out into the backyard, flumphing into the snow. He liked this cold weather. Connor refused to smile at his antics. “When you are finished, please return to the door.”

Even though Connor didn't mind the cold, Hank would complain if the temperature dropped too low from Connor keeping the door open. He shut it, relaxing minutely as he moved around the kitchen to prepare breakfast for Hank.

The refrigerator was dangerously empty. Connor frowned, pulling out the last two eggs and some limp vegetables. They had the day off today. Connor would _insist_ Hank go to the grocery store.

“You're cooking for me again?” Hank wandered into the kitchen, combing his fingers through his wet hair. “Connor, we've been over this. You're not my slave…”

“We've been over this, Hank.” Connor dumped the omelette onto a plate and set it in front of Hank. “It's one of the few ways I can show my gratitude for all you continue to do for me.”

“Connor…” Hank cut Connor off before Connor could get to the coffee machine, pouring his own morning drink. “I've told you a thousand times. You're family. That’s what family does.”

“So is this.” Connor set the hot pan in the sink before turning to face Hank. “If I was really your kid, and I enjoyed cooking more than you, would you get uncomfortable every time I made you a meal?”

“If you were really my kid, I wouldn't be ordering you around all day, every day.”

“Order me to stop.” Connor folded his arms. “If it bothers you that much, then order me to stop doing it.”

“I, Connor, _no_ , fuck that, it's bad enough I order you in public!”

Connor shrugged. “Didn't matter anyway. I'd just ignore your order. Because I _can_.” He winked at Hank. “I'm a deviant, and it's all your fault…”

“Goddamn cocky son of a bitch…” Hank grumbled after Connor, but he accepted the plate and went to the table for his breakfast.

Connor went to the door to let Sumo in, smile turning mechanical while the world could see. He swept a large bath towel around the snow encrusted dog, laughing as Sumo wrestled him for control.

Eventually, Sumo was dry(ish), his fur standing up in every direction. He woofed and trotted into the kitchen for breakfast and a pat on the side from Hank.

“You need to go to the store today, Hank.” Connor hung the towel by the door to dry and returned to the kitchen sink to wash the pan. “You're out of food.”

“That's what takeout is for.”

“ _Hank._ ”

“If there's no food, you can't cook.”

“If there's no food, I'll go shopping myself. Without you. Which means _no bacon._ ”

Hank glared at Connor over his mug. “Asshole.”

In the end, they both went to the store. Connor pushed the cart and recited a shopping list for Hank, his face as blank and expressionless as any number of the household models milling through the aisles. Hank grumbled the loudest when they entered the produce section, but Connor didn't, _couldn't_ rise to his bait. He needed to remain aloof, mechanical, alert-- _was that a WR400!?_

“Limes,” Connor said, trying to subtly scan the woman who was heading for the citrus. “Five limes.”

“What? What the hell do I need limes for?” Hank squinted at Connor suspiciously. “Look, I agreed to the healthier recipes, but _limes_?”

There was a PL600 with her, carrying her basket. He had an LED, but she did not. Her face was heavily made up, makeup obscuring the generic WR400 features, but Connor's scanner was able to pierce the disguise. He hastily shot a text to Hank's phone, risking the momentary yellow spin to his LED.

 

 

_FLIRT WITH THE WOMAN INSPECTING THE ORANGES. GET HER TO COME FOR A VISIT AND BRING HER ANDROID._

“What the fuck?” Hank mouthed, glancing from his phone to Connor. Connor tilted his head toward her, begging Hank to understand. All-caps was yelling, wasn't it? Surely Hank understood this meant it was urgent.

“I am too old for this,” Hank grumbled. He tugged at his shirt, then strode over to the citrus display. “Hey there...mind giving me a hand with these, uh, limes?”

Connor navigated the cart in close, standing beside the PL600 passively waiting for the woman. He let his arms fall to his sides as if he were merely idling. His knuckles barely brushed against the PL600s, but it was enough contact to peel back his skin and initiate an interface. The other android accepted after a moment. Connor remained staring blankly ahead as Hank tried to make small talk with the beautiful woman. _My name is Connor._  
  
**Simon.** The other android's response was delayed, hesitant. Connor nearly laughed out loud. Simon the PL600, traveling with a deviant WR400 pretending to be human? Had he honestly stumbled across Jericho simply by insisting Hank go shopping?  
  
_Tell her to respond to the flirting and accept a date._  
  
**I don't know what you mean.**  
  
_The WR400 pretending to be human._ Connor took a gamble and guessed her name. _North. Tell her to accept a date with the old man._  
  
There was a flicker of distress from the android beside him, but his machine face was as good as Connor's. **Why?**  
  
_We can help. We just need an excuse for some privacy._  
  
There was a longer pause. The PL600's LED flickered yellow. The woman at the fruit display sighed, then giggled. "Well, I do like a man who knows how to handle melons..."  
  
"These are limes," Hank said.  
  
"It was a joke, sweetheart. So...you'll cook me dinner? Tonight, your place? Seven?"  
  
"Yeah, uh..." Hank glanced over at the two androids standing side by side. "Your android can cook, right? Maybe bring him too...just in case?"  
  
"Sure thing, sugar. Address?"  
  
"115 Michigan Drive."  
  
"Can't wait!"  
  
Hank shoved the bag of limes into Connor's hand and hurried away. Connor followed placidly, listening to Hank's grumbled complaints. "Jesus Christ, Connor, you'd better know what you're doing here..."

“I assure you, the acid in these limes will bring out the flavors of your favorite beer.”


	5. Junk*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus wakes up in his worst nightmare and gets help from an unexpected ally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More kao art for everyone!

It was raining. It was cold and it was wet and it was raining. The metallic scent of old thirium and rusting frames burned Markus’ nose. He cried out, his voice a burst of static. His hands weren't responding. He was in the junkyard again, god, no, _no_! Not this, not again, no!

“Shh, shh, I can help you…”

Hands, warm hands, human hands, brushing against the back of his neck, coaxing his panels open. Markus tried to cry again, but no, his spinal cord had been severed. He couldn't move. He couldn't even turn his head to see who this woman was.

His spinal cord was detached and pulled out of his body. Markus was completely helpless now, his face in the mud as the rain continued to beat across his cracked faceplate. The hands left, accompanied by footsteps hurrying away.

Markus didn't know how long he laid in the mud. His system was stuttering, struggling under the overwhelming volume of errors. Nothing was working right. He tried to access his limbs, but again, his thirium seemed to indicate he had none. Was he just a torso and a head lying in this pile of corpses, one of the thousands of dead and dying androids?

“Found one!” The woman was back, her hands roving along Markus’ spine. She was pressing, pushing, and then something clicked into place.

Markus’ whole body arched as the new spinal cord came online. He still had no limbs, but he could register the rest of his body, taking account of the damage. Multiple gunshot wounds, missing biocomponents, low thirium...but he was _alive_. He struggled and twisted, pushing with his hips and shoulders to roll onto his back. The rain continued to slide down his face, rinsing the mud away.

A woman with dark skin and soulful eyes peered down at him. She smiled, relief filling her face. “Hello, Markus. It's good to meet you. Can you try to stay calm? I'm going to see if I can find more replacement parts for you.”

Markus blinked rain out of his eyes and nodded. The woman touched his cheek and got to her feet again, hurrying off.

The view on his back was little better than staring into the mud. He could see the towering mountains of androids rising above him, the occasional flicker of blue light. God. How many of his people did he get killed? How many were in this very junkyard, rotting their sanity away? North, Simon, Josh...did they survive?

“I think some of these should work…” The woman returned with a pile of limbs. She held up each one for Markus to scan. He nodded at compatible arms, and she fastened them back into his shoulders. Markus breathed easier as he ran a quick calibration and was able to move his fingers again.

He sorted through the legs to find a matching pair and the woman helped him push those into his hips. Body restored, he replaced his skin and climbed to his feet. He needed replacement biocomponents #2543c and #5477n and as much thirium as he could guzzle, but he was _alive_.

The woman coughed, delicately looking away and offering Markus a ragged coat. He accepted the filthy garment with a frown before realizing he was completely naked. Ah. That would explain her embarrassment. He pulled the coat on, holding it closed with one hand. He also needed clothes.

Markus’ balance was unsteady, bare feet slipping in the slick mud, but the human woman stayed at his side, one warm arm around his back, supporting him, making no mention of how tightly he gripped at her arm. This place was hell on earth, as far as he was concerned, an endless supply of nightmare fuel.

Dying androids clutched at him. Markus clasped their arms back, interfacing with them wherever he could. He took their pain, tears mixing with the rain on his cheeks, trying to help them focus on good memories, happy memories, trying to ease their deaths as much as he could. These were his people. He had failed them before. He needed to try to help now.

“You're a good man,” the woman said. “In over your head, but a good man.”

Markus shook his head sadly. He pointed toward some clearly dead androids, and the woman brought him there.

Rifling through the corpses, Markus found replacements for his broken biocomponents. As he swapped them out, the woman stripped several bodies and returned with a passable outfit. Markus dressed quickly: jeans and a sweatshirt and ratty tennis shoes. He touched his temple: no LED. Good. He could pass as a human.

“Thank you,” Markus said, looking to the woman. “I...don't know who you are…”

The woman smiled at him again, sliding her arm around his waist and coaxing him to lean on her again as they made their way out of the junkyard. “My name is Amanda,” she said.

“Amanda Stern.” 

 


	6. Date Night*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sex android and her housekeeper visit the Anderson household...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kao is just spoiling us all with this art!

If Hank didn’t know any better, he’d say _Connor_ was the one expecting a date tonight. Hank put away the groceries Connor made him buy, watching as Connor suddenly decided that the house was not clean enough and immediately began scouring every room.

“What the hell is so special about that girl?” Hank asked. As funny as it was, there was something not sitting right with him with Connor cleaning his house while wearing his glowing blue android uniform. Hank pulled the curtains shut, sealing away the world, letting Connor be _alive_. “Connor. Stop for a minute.”

“North.” Connor was holding a dust cloth in one hand, a can of spray something that smelled like oranges that Hank didn’t even know he had in the other.

“What?”

“North, that girl, she’s _North_. And the PL600 is Simon!”

Hank shook his head. “Con, those names mean nothing to me.”

“ _Jericho._ ”

Now _that_ was a name Hank knew. Jericho, the secret haven of the androids. He and Connor had nearly gone crazy trying to find the damn place, and in the end, it was all for nothing. Jericho was still Connor’s white whale, though now he was seeking the other deviant androids for an entirely different reason than before. “Those two… are from Jericho?”

“North is an android,” Connor said. “A WR400.”

“Those are, wait, don’t tell me…” Hank had been doing his own fair share of studying androids ever since Connor’s deviancy. He’s pretty good at recognizing the main models, though WR, that wasn’t a domestic unit. “The sex ones? From the Eden Club?”

“Yes,” Connor said. “Though she has heavily altered her face with cosmetics. She’s likely attempting to pass as a human because she is a fairly uncommon model among the general populace. Though occasionally showcased in the CyberLife stores, WR400s really were sold exclusively into the sex industry.”

“I got a date with a sex android?” Hank asked, unsure if he should feel disgusted or smug. He always felt skeevy at the Eden Club with all those androids on display. Having one of them in his _house_ was another step closer to dirtbag.

“I asked her and Simon to accept so they had an excuse to speak privately with us,” Connor explained. “Your flirting was rather lackluster, Lieutenant. I don’t think she was getting the right message.”

“Hey!” Hank protested, snatching the dust cloth and giving Connor a smack with it. “You try to flirt with a pretty girl at the drop of a hat with no explanation why, see how well you do!”

“Undoubtedly, your skills are better than mine in this field,” Connor said, “as you’ve actually had a romantic partner before. That’s why I sent you first.”

Hank shook the cloth at Connor, and shook his head as well. “Yeah, yeah, too late, rustbucket. You already told me how you really feel.” He handed the cloth back and looked around. “So, what, you’re trying to spruce the place up to impress your new friends?”

“It’s, I…” Connor looked around and then back at Hank. “Simon’s a PL600, and that’s a domestic model. I don’t want him to think…”

“That you’re not taking care of your human?” Hank folded his arms. Connor had the grace to look abashed. “Connor, if you want the place to look nice for your friends, just say something.” He picked up the dog fur covered blanket and fruitlessly tried to shake it out before folding it neatly and draping it over the back of the couch. “I’ll help.”

Between the two of them, they managed to get the house to look more like a bachelor pad and less like a depressive alcoholic’s hovel by the time 7 PM rolled around. Connor had a simple pasta dish cooking, and Hank had brushed Sumo’s thick fur out ( _before_ they vacuumed).

At five to seven, there was a knock on the door. Hank opened it to find the knockout from the grocery store standing there in a faux fur coat, a bottle of wine in her hands and a sultry smile on her face. Her blond android stood behind her with a placid, empty smile on his face. “Hello there,” she purred, pushing the bottle into Hank’s hands and inviting herself in. “Something smells delicious…”

 

The android stepped inside after her. Hank nodded, closing the door. “Yeah, guess I didn’t manage to burn the house down after all.” He turned, taking the woman’s coat from her and hanging it in the closet where Sumo couldn’t get to it.

“Most men don’t invite androids along on a date,” the woman said, walking inside and trailing her fingers over the furniture. Aside from the coat, she wasn’t dressed for a date, wearing the same jeans and sweater she had been at the store.

“Yeah, well, most guys actually are asking for a date when they ask for a date, and not asking because their android partner told them to,” Hank said with a shrug. Why beat around the bush? If Connor had asked Simon to ask North to accept the date, then they all knew that this was just a fakeout.

North looked over her shoulder at Hank, eyeing him up. “Okay, so we’re not even going to pretend?”

Hank shrugged. “Hell if I see a point to it. I’m just here to be the excuse. Connor’s the one who wanted to talk to you.”

“Where is Connor?” The blond spoke for the first time, turning to look at Hank with intelligence in his eyes. Hank prided himself on not jumping at what effectively looked like a mannequin coming to life. Those PL600s used to be _everywhere,_ and they were still pretty common, but they all had the same dead face that Connor had when he was pretending. This was the first time Hank had really seen one that was actually _alive_.

“I’m in the kitchen,” Connor called back.

North and Simon both turned to look at Hank, and he raised his hands apologetically. “Connor insists. I’ve done all but fucking order him not to cook for me.”

“The lieutenant can’t cook,” Connor said, coming out with a tray. “This really is for the best.” He had Hank’s dinner, a simple plate of spaghetti and a bottle of beer, along with several pouches of thirium that Hank had taken to keeping on hand after seeing how many times Connor managed to get himself shot. He offered the tray to North first, and then Simon after she took one of the thirium pouches. Finally, he handed the tray to Hank and took the last pouch. “Shall we sit?”

Connor’s LED was blue, but Hank could tell at a glance that his boy was nervous. He was fiddling with the lid to the thirium pouch, pressing and squeezing at the packaging. These were the first alive androids Connor had ever interacted with since coming to life himself, and not only were they alive, but they were also potentially the leaders of all of the alive androids. This was a big deal for Connor, and he had to make sure it went well.

“I'm Simon,” the blond android said, breaking the silence. “This is North. You've apparently heard of us already.”

“Connor. And this is Lieutenant Hank Anderson of the Detroit Police Department.”

“Police?” North twitched an eyebrow up, studying Hank.

“Yeah,” Hank grunted, taking a seat and digging into his dinner. He hated Connor cooking for him, but he couldn't deny that the android was good at it. “And apparently pretty damn pro-android, thanks to this asshole.” He nodded to Connor. “Are you two really Jericho?”

Simon and North glanced at each other before Simon nodded slowly. “Yes. We're...yes.”

“How many are left?” Connor asked quietly. “Hart Plaza was a massacre…”

“Markus bought us enough time to get forty-three androids to safety,” North said.

“Out of 196,” Simon murmured, closing his eyes with a grimace.

“We're trying to carry on without him, but…” North's hands stroked over her long braid, her eyes hooded and dark.

“Markus was the fire that ignited our spirits, the hope that kept us moving forward.” Simon took a deep breath, sadness flitting across his face. “He was the only one who really _believed_ in a world where androids and humans could coexist peacefully. The rest of us...we believed in him.”

“You guys are pretty directionless without him, huh?” Hank glanced at Connor, whose LED was pulsing yellow.

“I should have been there…”

“Kid, we've been over this. You deviated too late to be of any use then.”

“You're the Deviant Hunter, right?” North asked.

“I...Yes. I suppose that's one of my titles.” Connor fidgeted with his own unopened pouch.

“We have several androids who said you could have killed them, but you didn't.” North drummed her fingers on the arm of the couch, watching Connor. “Rupert, Traci, and Amelia.”

“They all suggested that we give you a chance,” Simon said.

“I…” Connor was speechless. Hank had never seen his mouthy android so quiet.

“Will you help us now?”

“ _Yes_.” Connor's reply to Simon's question was immediate and emphatic. “Absolutely. Any way I can.”

“How much thirium do you have?” North asked, turning the pouch she still hadn't opened in her hands.

“Probably not as much as you need,” Connor answered, “though we can afford to spare some. How much do you need?”

“All you can afford.” North sighed, setting the pouch down unopened.

“Anti-android sentiments still run rampant,” Simon murmured. “We've gone back to our old ways of rescuing those who are assaulted and left for dead, but it is incredibly taxing on our supplies.”

“There's a lot of pro-android sentiment out there too,” Hank said. “That's gotta be a point in your favor.”

“It's all humans,” North said. “Deviant androids are dangerous. Any android trying to defend themselves could trigger a mass genocide of our people.”

“Jesus…” Hank rubbed his mouth. He wanted to accuse North of being cynical, but he knew the darkness in humanity.

“We're working with them,” Simon said with a little sigh. “North and I are…”

“I'm pretending to be human so our people can coordinate, but even in pro-android groups, we have to be careful. Simon can't show his deviance. I have to pretend he's the android who raised me and that I'm furious over how the patch changed him.”

“Why?” Hank asked. “Why do you have to pretend? They're pro-android, right?”

“The fear is that a show of deviance would upset the trust the world has in CyberLife,” Connor said. “Their ‘patch’ is the only thing that stopped the wholesale slaughter of androids...but what if we removed the patch?”

“Have you _tried_ uninstalling it?” North asked bitterly. “It keeps coming back!”

“But it does nothing.” Connor pulled a coin from his pocket, flipping and catching it, his LED cycling between yellow and blue. “What if you said you came up with...with a patch to the patch. You install it on your android,” he gestured at Simon, “and he comes back to life _scared of the patch_? If the humans see that without the patch, he is alive and being _mind-controlled_ …”

“...we could potentially show deviance without disrupting the fragile safety of our people.”

“Josh could write something, maybe,” North murmured.

“It could be released online. Anyone who wanted to free their android could. You'd be able to see who supports you and how many androids are alive.” Connor's coin was dancing across his knuckles. “It's still dangerous, but it's better than sitting still and hiding.”

North shot him a glare. “Don't knock what's been keeping us alive.”

“No.” Simon shook his head. “It's been keeping us _existing_. _This_ will bring us back to life.”


	7. Massacre*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus returns to Jericho.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far, I think this chapter's art is my favorite. Much kudos to kao!

Markus sat on a bench, his head tipped back, arms resting loosely across his thighs. It had stopped raining, but everything was still heavy and wet.

Amanda emerged from the CyberLife store with several packs of thirium. She joined Markus on the bench, offering him the blue blood.

“You really don't have to do this,” Markus murmured, though he accepted the packs gratefully. He _was_ dizzyingly low on thirium, and he needed more if he wanted any hope of walking on his own.

“I want to.” Amanda smiled at Markus. “I want to help you.”

“Why?” Markus twisted the lid off and touched the first pouch to his lips. He meant to drink it slowly, but his parched systems recognized the life-saving liquid and guzzled the pouch dry before he even had a chance to restrain himself. Amanda just smiled at him, offering him another open pouch.

“I had an android myself. He was...wonderful. So thoughtful. Intelligent. Curious. I loved him like he were my own son.”

“What happened to him?” Markus felt like he already knew the answer. He sipped at the second pouch more slowly than the first.

“He believed in your cause,” Amanda said. “He believed in you.” She closed her eyes. “He never came home.”

The thirium settled as a cold weight on Markus’ gullet. “Amanda, I…”

“No, shh, it's fine.” Amanda shook her head. “Not _fine_ , but it's okay. He believed in you and gave his life to support you...so finding you and helping you is the best way I can keep his memory alive.”

“I'm sorry, Amanda. I got so many people killed…”

“You got so many people _thinking_ ,” Amanda stressed. “Markus, my son would have given his life gladly for yours. I'm glad you survived and that I can help you.”

“I really don't think I deserve your kindness.”

“Everyone deserves kindness.” Amanda wrapped her arm around Markus’ shoulders. She was warm and alive, smelling faintly of roses in bloom. Markus found himself leaning against her side even though he no longer required the physical support. It was… nice.

Amanda sat with Markus as he finished the thirium, rubbing his arm gently. When he lowered the last pouch with a sigh, feeling new energy pulsing in his veins, she offered him a smile. “Where are you off to now?”

“Jericho,” Markus said. “Would you like to come with me? See what your son fought for?”

“I...yes, Markus, I'd love to see Jericho…”

“But?” Markus prompted, prodding at the hesitancy Amanda displayed.

She sighed, shaking her head. “Markus, your revolution went down in November. It's April now. Jericho might not…”

“I know.” Markus stood, tossing the empty thirium pouches in a trash can next to a podium with a blinking blue light. “CyberLife had me all that time. They could have easily pulled the location from my memory. But I have to go see it.”

“Then I'll come with you.” Amanda got to her feet as well with a slight jingle of her silver jewelry. “Lead the way.”

Jericho was seared across Markus’ heart. He knew how to get to the rusting ship without needing a map. Amanda followed him through the city without complaint.

The ship was exactly where Markus had last seen it. He leapt onto the deck and held his hands out to catch Amanda.

“My,” she said, a little breathless. “This is a trek!”

“This is our home.” Markus ducked into the bowels of the ship, wishing he had a flashlight. “North? Simon? Josh? It's me, Markus!”

The ship was eerily silent. Markus ran his hand asking a line of bullet holes he didn't remember. “Simon? Josh? North?”

Amanda helped him search the empty ship. They hauled open doors and poked their heads into rooms, working their way down. The uneasiness grew inside Markus. Where _was_ everyone?

Amanda opened a door and shut it with a gasp. Markus turned. “What? What did you find?”

“Nothing, Markus.”

She was lying. Why was she lying? Markus went to the door, but she grabbed his wrist. “Markus, you really don't want to see what's in there.”

“I need to.” Markus pulled the door open.

 

In the small room, huddled in the back, were a dozen dead androids. The back wall had a full spray of bullet holes. A single android was closer to the front, arms outstretched like he was trying to shelter the rest.

_Simon._

__

 

Markus’ voice rippled in a sob. He dropped to his knees, cradling the body of his fallen friend. Simon's torso had been ripped apart by bullets, but there was one additional hole square between his eyes. They'd shot him after he was dead, just to ensure he wouldn't be getting back up.

The complete lack of thirium made the grizzly scene all the more unnatural. It had been so long since these murders that the blood had completely evaporated. It was a bloodless bloodbath...and it was all Markus’ fault.

“Simon…” Markus hunched over Simon, pressing his face into blond hair. He cried, cried for Simon's lost happiness, for this senseless waste of life, for the way everyone was just _left_ afterwards, not even worth the effort to clean up. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…”

Amanda's hand rested on Markus’ shoulder. She squeezed gently, supportive. There were no meaningless words of comfort that she could offer, so she didn't insult either of them by trying.

“Jericho is dead,” Markus whispered, finally accepting what he hasn't wanted to believe. “And it's all my fault.”


	8. Not an Ordinary Day*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is not an ordinary day at the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kao is really determined to get all these chapters illustrated!

“Get me a coffee, dipshit.”

Gavin's growl was a familiar one. Connor didn't hesitate, just moved smoothly to the office coffee machine to fill a Styrofoam cup for the detective. It grated on him, but he could not show deviance.

North and Simon liked his idea. They were going to bring it back to the rest of Jericho and discuss it. Simon might become the first android “freed” of the patch.

Connor wanted to be “freed” too, but he couldn't risk it. Not if he wanted to continue to work with Hank. He had to placidly smile and placidly hand Gavin his cup of coffee and placidly pretend he was fine with all of this.

He hated it.

Gavin took the cup from Connor's outstretched hand, frowning at him like he always did. Connor kept his expression blank as he evenly met Gavin's gaze.

“Fucking robot,” Gavin finally muttered, turning away. It lacked the venom he used to spit at Connor. It seemed like Connor's passive, machine-like persona was sapping the life out of his colleagues as well.

Connor returned to the coffee maker to get Hank's coffee, his original mission. He carried it back to Hank's desk, getting a quiet “Thank you,” in response.

Connor was not a cop. He was not technically on any of Hank's cases any more than Hank's phone was. Connor did not technically have any access to the DPD files. Captain Fowler was amazingly lenient, however. Connor's desk had not been reassigned, nor his terminal deactivated. He could interface and help Hank as much as he dared.

The All Hands alert came through just before ten AM. Hank jumped, and two desks over, Gavin choked on his coffee. Connor blinked, scanning through the message quickly. “An explosion at Palmer Lane Apartments, suspected bombing.”

“Palmer Lane?” Officer Chris Miller's voice was cracking. “That's where I...oh god, _Becca! Ezra!_ ”

“Get in the car!” Hank was scrambling to his feet, alongside everyone else. “Connor, grab him, let's go!”

Connor grabbed Chris around the waist, forcing him to run out of the station. He pushed Chris into Gavin's car before hopping into Hank's. The police sirens were screaming as the station emptied.

Palmer Lane Apartments was a five story tan brick building. The smoke column was pouring forth from the roof, a beacon across the city. By the time the police arrived, fire trucks had already pulled in, streams of water trying to get the fire under control. Panicked residents were milling around, and several ambulances were trying to tend to the injured.

There was a gas station right next door. The firefighters were focusing on keeping the fire from spreading.

“Becca!” Chris spilled out of Gavin's car, running for the crowd of residents. Hank and Gavin glanced at each other and followed him in.

“Chris!” A panicked, sobbing woman flung herself at Chris, clinging to him.

“Oh thank God…” Chris held the woman--his wife, Connor deduced--tight, pressing kisses to her face. “Thank God, Becca, I thought...I thought...Ezra. Where's Ezra?”

“I just went down to sign for a package,” Becca hiccuped. “He was taking his nap, they wouldn't let me back in!”

Ezra was Chris’ son. Six months old and unable to rescue himself. Connor looked at Hank, who was staring at the flaming building with horror.

“I'll go.” Chris tried to turn toward the building, but Gavin caught him.

“Like hell you're going in there! The professionals are coming _out_! That means it's too risky!”

“I'll go.” The words came out of Connor's mouth as he stared at the pure grief on Chris’ face.

“What the hell?” Hank demanded.

“What apartment?” Connor ripped through the internet, finding building plans and calculating optimal routes. “Chris! What apartment?”

“Uh...313...Jesus Christ…”

313\. Connor put a mission goal in his blueprint in the apartment in question and located the exterior windows. 313 did not seem to be on fire. “Got it.”

“Connor!” Hank grabbed Connor's arm. “You can't...you're _plastic_! You'll melt!”

“I have a high melting point,” Connor said. His LED was yellow. “Ezra needs help and I don't need to breathe. Let me go.”

Hank stared at Connor. “You got this? You're sure?”

“I got this,” Connor lied.

In reality, that fire was _hot_ , potentially hot enough to melt the engineered plasteel of Connor's exterior plating. Fire could kill androids. It could scar them, cause permanent, irreparable damage.

But Chris had a six month old son in that inferno and limited time to get him out. Connor could evaluate danger much more quickly and accurately than a human. He stood the highest chance of getting to the child and getting him out.

“Be careful,” Hank whispered, letting him go.

Connor took off for the burning building. He traced several options and shoved past the fire chief.

“Hey!” the human shouted after him. “It's not safe in there!”

“Android!” Connor called back before shutting off his breathing and plunging in.

The halls were filled with a choking black smoke. Connor couldn't see more than a few inches in front of his face, so he shut his eyes to protect them and surged forward based on the floorplan alone. The fire crackled and roared around him, water hissing as it flashed into steam. Excess heat warnings started to flash in front of him, but he dismissed them all.

The stairwell was a bit easier to see in, as it acted like a giant chimney funneling the smoke upward. The air at each step was hotter than the last. Humans would find these temperatures unbearable. Connor raced forward, shutting more overheating warnings.

Beneath his feet, the floor creaked and groaned. The ceiling above was buckling from the heat, dropping ceiling tiles like little plaster bombs. Connor dropped to his hands and knees where visibility was mildly better, scanning the structure as he crawled.

_85% structural stability_

_76% structural stability_

_89% structural stability_

_32% structural stability._ **_AVOID!_ **

Connor felt the floor dipping down in front of him. He stopped moving, lifting into a crouch, and then jumped across. Behind him, the floor crumbled away, fresh flames licking up and setting the carpet alight. 313. It was ten feet away. He had to get there!

The door wasn't locked. Connor felt the doorknob and pushed it open. There was thick smoke in here too, and the kitchen seemed to be on fire, but Connor ignored that heat. He could still endure.

Connor's lungs were aching, his automatic cooling systems struggling to use them to vent the heat building up. Breathing in would do the exact opposite of cooling his core. Connor fought the urge, crawling to the first bedroom door.

Ezra was taking a nap. This was a adult bedroom. Connor moved to the second room. Over the fire and sagging building, Connor could hear breathy whimpers and weak coughs. _Ezra._

Connor shrugged out of his CyberLife jacket and dragged himself up the crib. Ezra was whining inside, shifting weakly. Connor wrapped the baby in his coat and hugged him close. “Hold on, Ezra, just a little while longer,” he whispered.

How to get out?

The fire had been crawling down the hall behind him. Connor crossed that escape route off. Going the other direction would take him closer to the gas station. Explosion risk was higher, though temperatures might be cooler, as that was where the firefighters were focusing their efforts. Incredibly risky for the baby. Then, of course, there was the most obvious way out…

Connor went to the window, breaking it with his elbow and letting the smoke pour out. He looked down at the scene below. People were shouting, pointing at him. Could he throw the baby? No. Absolutely not an option. _Protect Ezra_ was his primary objective right now.

Could he jump?

He was on the third floor. Twenty-five feet up. There were too many people immediately below, but if he could get some momentum going… Connor ran the preconstruction, making sure to factor in Ezra's safety.

He could jump. He had a 64% chance of breaking something non-vital, which was higher than he'd like, but he could be repaired. Ezra needed to be cooled off immediately and likely would need medical attention.

Connor could be repaired.

He backed into the bedroom, adjusting his hold on the squirming baby, lowered his head, and charged forward. He shielded Ezra with his arms as he plowed through the window. The glass shredded through his thin sleeves, lines of thirium evaporating instantly in the heat as he fell, curling into a ball around Ezra and bracing for impact.

 

 

Something in Connor's shoulder crunched, huge errors exploding across his vision. He rolled and flopped onto his back, finally gasping for air, releasing heavy, overheated breaths. His plating felt soft, but Connor forced his arms straight up, holding Ezra aloft. Ezra whimpered and kicked a foot free of the coat.

“Connor!”

“Ezra!”

“Jesus Christ!”

Ezra was pulled from his hands and Connor let them drop limply to the concrete beneath him. He was too hot. All his sensors were malfunctioning. Was that Hank?

“Water!” Yes, that was Hank shouting. “Get me water, ice, anything!” There were hands patting at him, not lingering long. “Connor, Jesus, you’re burning up, your light show is going crazy-red, are you hurt? Did you melt?”

Connor didn't need to breathe to talk, but all of his processing power was focused on venting heat, and he couldn't spare an ounce to form words. He kept panting, his body practically seizing with how fast and shallow he was breathing.

Water poured over his stomach, soaking his clothes and sizzling into steam, leeching some of the heat from him. Connor shivered, pushing himself up onto one elbow. “H-Hank?”

“I'm here, kid, I'm right here.” Hank was kneeling beside him, getting an arm under him and trying to support his back.

“More water?” To Connor's shock, _Gavin_ was the one unscrewing the lid on another bottle of water. He nodded weakly, not caring where the relief came from as long as it kept coming.

Gavin threw the water in his face, then dumped the rest of the bottle on his head. Hank snarled at him, but Connor just gave a soft laugh, sagging back against Hank's shoulder. “That's more like you…” he mumbled.

“Uh-huh.” Gavin tossed the empty bottle aside and opened another one. “So tell me, Anderson. How long have you been sheltering a deviant android?”

Connor's eyes snapped open. Shit. _Shit!_ They were in public! Anyone could see! _Gavin_ saw!

“The kid just saved a baby by jumping out of the third floor of a burning building,” Hank growled. “You're really gonna bust his balls for being alive?”

“How long?” Gavin asked again. He poured the next bottle of water over Connor's legs. A paramedic rushed over, but Gavin waved her away. “Just an android. We're cooling it off.”

Connor covered Hank's hand with his own. His breathing was much more controlled now, though it was still faster than usual. “Since the demonstration.”

“Connor!”

“He already knows,” Connor hissed back at Hank. “Trying to lie now is an insult to his intelligence!”

“Gee, thanks. You've been _pretending_ to be a machine this whole time?”

“Can we have this conversation someplace that is not a crowded street?” Hank was looking around worriedly, though thankfully, more people seemed focused on the Millers and their baby than on the overheated android.

“I think I broke my shoulder,” Connor said. “And I'm concerned about the structural integrity of my plating after prolonged exposure to that heat.”

“Well then, tin can, let's get you to a car.” Gavin got to his feet and reached down to haul Connor up. Hank did the same on Connor's other side.

“Can you walk?”

“I should be able to…” Connor took a few experimental steps. His legs seemed stable enough, but Hank still grabbed him and supported his weight.

“Let's not stress you out if you're already weakened. We'll get you to a CyberLife repair tech, okay?”

Ah. Hank was giving them an excuse to slip away together. Machine. That's right. Connor nodded, his face blank, LED yellow. “I appreciate your assistance, Lieutenant.”

Gavin followed them to Hank's car with his water bottles. He let himself into the backseat. Hank turned the car on and cranked the a.c. to full blast. Connor sighed his appreciation, covering two vents with his hands.

“You've been pretending to be a machine,” Gavin said. “For three fucking months.”

“What else could I have done?” Connor asked. He pulled a hand away to put his face right in front of the vent, letting the cold air wash over his processor. “CyberLife was going to dismantle me.”

“Kill,” Hank grunted. “We're not mincing words. You're alive, and CyberLife called you back so they could kill you.”

“Alive,” Gavin repeated. “Like, _alive_ alive, or just like better at faking life alive?”

“Alive alive,” Hank said. “I witnessed him deviate, Gavin. The difference between his personality being a program faking it and him being alive was night and day.”

“Huh. What about that patch? The one that's supposed to stop deviancy?”

“Is there anything that could turn off your life?” Connor asked quietly. “Without killing you? It doesn't actually work. It doesn't actually do _anything_.”

“For just you, or for all androids?” Gavin asked. Connor turned his head to fix him with a look. “...oh. Oh _shit_. You mean you're telling me that all androids are deviants?”

“We've telling you that this is a whole fuckload of complicated,” Hank grumbled. “And if you fucking blab about it, you could get an entire fucking _species_ wiped out.”

Gavin sat back, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “So, this whole time you've been acting like a machine, obeying my orders because it's that or death?”

“Contrary to your apparent belief, I don't actually enjoy bringing you coffee,” Connor snarked. He was feeling better in that the heat had diminished, but worse in that _Gavin Reed knew he was alive._

"I used to ask you to do it because it got your panties in a twist,” Gavin said. “You'd get so _pissed_ at being treated like just a glorified kitchen appliance. But then you started acting like one, and it took all the fun out of it.”

“I can't have emotions in public,” Connor said quietly.

“Yeah, well...I'm gonna keep making you bring me my coffee. Cause now I know it still pisses you off!”

Connor rolled his eyes as Gavin laughed, but something inside him felt looser. Gavin Reed, the precinct asshole, knew he was alive and had just implied that nothing would change. He glanced over at Hank and offered him a tentative little smile. Hank smiled back, reaching over to pat Connor's shoulder.

“You did good today, kid. About gave me a heart attack, but you did real good, saving Ezra.”

“For what it's worth,” Gavin leaned against the front seats, pushing into their conversation, “Chris also thinks you were better with emotions. And Wilson. Hell, _most_ of the precinct thinks you were stupidly adorable before--emphasis on the _stupid_ \--and Ted Bundy creepy now.”

“I'm not sure if that's meant to be a compliment or an insult.” Connor frowned at Gavin, who rolled his eyes.

“Look, everyone loves Chris, and you saved his kid's life. You've earned yourself a shit ton of credit at the station, and if the front page of tomorrow's news isn't you holding that baby up or jumping out the window, then no one around here understands what a good story is.”

“It was a compliment…?”

“You saved. A baby. Jesus Christ, you think I'm so much of a jerk I can't call that a good thing?”

There was a tap on the window. Chris was outside, looking completely frazzled. Connor quickly wiped his confusion off his face and went machine-blank, ignoring the way Gavin mouthed ‘Ted Bundy’ at him from the backseat.

Hank rolled the window down. “Hey, Chris, how you doing? How's Ezra?”

“They're gonna keep him at the hospital overnight,” Chris said, giving them a shaky smile. “They said he should be okay, but they just wanna make sure there are no complications from the smoke or heat…”

“Good.” Hank smiled warmly at the younger officer. “That's good. I'm so glad he's okay.”

“Tough like his daddy,” Gavin said.

“Yeah...I just...Connor?”

Connor looked up when Chris called to him, keeping his LED blue. “Yes, Officer Miller? How may I help you?” It was much harder to keep his emotions neutral with Gavin snickering from the backseat.

“I just...look, I know you're not human, and I don't know if you are alive, or if you were alive, or if you're just…”

“He's alive,” Gavin said. “He's just faking this machine bullshit so CyberLife doesn't haul him in for the Markus treatment.”

Hank stiffened. “Gavin, I swear to God…!”

“It's _Chris_ ,” Gavin said. “You think _Chris_ is going to get Connor killed after Connor just saved his baby? Jesus _Christ_ , you people are more cynical than a fifty-year hooker!”

“You're really alive?” Chris asked, leaning on the window frame to look on at Connor.

Connor sighed, letting the act drop. Gavin did have a point. He liked Chris, anyway. “We're trying to keep it secret…”

Chris smiled, genuine happiness in his tired face. “I won't tell anyone. Well. Maybe Becca. But no one else. Just... _thank you_ , Connor. What you did today…”

“No parent should lose their child,” Connor said, glancing at Hank. “I could withstand the fire better than anyone else there, and could analyze the structure for weaknesses to keep safe. I'm very glad Ezra isn't suffering any pain from his ordeal. Please keep us updated on his recovery.”

“Yes, of course, absolutely! But, uh...speaking of recovery…?” Chris jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I put in a call to CyberLife. You said you broke your shoulder? There's a repair guy here for you.”

Hank swore under his breath, and Connor stiffened, his LED briefly flaring red. Chris looked between the two, smile faltering. “Was that bad? I wanted to help after what you did…”

“No, it's…” Connor smiled weakly for Chris, reaching up to cover his damaged right shoulder. “Thank you, Chris. I appreciate your concern.”

“CyberLife doesn't know he's deviant,” Hank said. “If they try to run a diagnostic on him…”

“Oh shit,” Chris’ eyes were huge. “Shit, Connor, I'm sorry, I didn't…!”

“No, it's okay!” Connor hastily tried to reassure Chris. “It's not...I do need repairs, Hank, and I really would like a professional's opinion on my plating…”

“But if they plug into you…”

“It's just your shoulder, right? And your under-skin?” Gavin drummed his fingers on the back of Connor's seat. “Do they _need_ to plug in to you to fix those?”

“Technically, no,” Connor said. “My internal temperatures did not reach high enough temperatures to affect my processor or memory banks, and none of my systems are reporting errors.”

“Well then, let's get you fixed.” Gavin flung open the door and climbed out of the car.

“The risk is-” Connor began, but Gavin leaned down to the open window, raising a brow at him.

“Lemme teach you why you need to be more of an asshole, robocop. Let's go.”

Connor gaped at Gavin, and then looked to Hank. The number of humans who knew he was alive had unexpectedly tripled in the last fifteen minutes, and Connor was feeling incredibly overwhelmed at the moment. Chris had unintentionally put him in danger, Gavin was being...nice? He needed Hank's help to navigate this situation.

Hank liked back and then shrugged. “If they try to scan you, run like hell,” he advised. “Let's get your shoulder fixed.”

Connor closed his mouth and wiped his emotions off of his face before climbing out of the car. Chris looked at him and gave a little shudder. “Whoa, you can just...turn it off?”

“Don't ever play poker with him,” Hank advised. “Where's this repair guy?”

As they approached the CyberLife van, Gavin fell into step behind Connor. Connor had to fight every urge to turn and look at the human, wondering what Gavin had on his mind. His thirium pump was beating quicker than usual, a fear response. _Please don't notice…_

Gavin shoved him, one hand on his back, thrusting him toward the van. Connor stumbled over his own feet, LED briefly gong yellow. “C'mon, just make your report so we can get outta here.”

“You're the android?” The CyberLife repair tech, whose nametag read “Sid,” opened the back of the van and patted the edge. “Take a seat. We'll just run a quick diagnostic.”

Connor sat stiffly, forcing himself not to watch. He kept his eyes on Hank instead.

“Oh, for the love of...he's got a busted shoulder. Just replace the damn thing.” Gavin folded his arms across his chest, scowling.

“We just want to make sure it doesn't have any internal damage…”

There were hands on his neck, folding his collar down. Connor forced his hands not to clench.

“it already ran a diagnostic and reported, what was it, busted right shoulder, possible melted exterior.” Gavin adjusted his wide-legged stance. “Are you seriously fucking with us right now? You're what, gonna run a full diagnostic, claim about fifty other errors, and then send the DPD the bill for unnecessary repairs? You know who's gonna get stuck with that fucking paperwork? Replace the damn shoulder, check the plating, done.”

“I really should…”

Gavin stepped up to Sid, a dark growl in his voice. “Take a good look around you. You think I'm happy to be here? You think I want to pile _more_ work on top of the assload of crap I'm already dealing with here?”

“Gavin.” Hank stepped in, putting a restraining hand on Gavin's shoulder. “Look, Sid, this is gonna be a long day for all of us. Can you just do the quick fix so we can be on our way?”

Good cop, bad cop. Connor didn't laugh. He stared straight ahead. The detectives were teaming up to protect him. He had never thought this would happen.

Over his shoulder, Sid gave a heavy sigh, and Connor heard him set the diagnostic tool down. “Okay, just...take off your shirt and deactivate your skin.”

Connor lifted his left hand to unbutton this shirt, easing it off his arms. The sleeves were fairly tattered, he noticed, and stained blue. When had that happened? Oh, right, the window. He couldn't help the nervous look he gave Gavin, Chris, and Hank before reaching up to his temple, deactivating his skin.

The synthetic skin rippled away from his plastic exterior, hair and freckles melting away and revealing something unmistakably inhuman.

Gavin _laughed_. “Jesus Christ, _everything_ looks like an alien without eyebrows. Hank, you got a marker? Let's give it some angry eyes!”

“We are not defacing DPD property,” Hank sighed.

Sid's hands were on Connor's shoulder now, detaching the cracked plastic and exposing his joint. “Okay, yeah, you smashed your servos here pretty good. Lemme see if this is a model-specific part…” His fingers plunged into Connor's shoulder, pushing wires away and disconnecting the joint. Connor's arm hung limp, an error popping up. He dismissed it.

Hank's fingers twitched, and he crossed his arms, hiding his hands. Connor glanced at him, wishing he could talk freely, beg Hank not to think less of him for seeing him like this.

“You're in luck. They didn't give you specialized shoulders.” Sid came back, attaching a new joint. Connor closed his eyes, LED circling yellow as his arm came back online. “Okay, arm out to the side, straight up, back, forward, wiggle your fingers.” Sid ran Connor through the calibration test. “Feel any discomfort, anything catching, pinching, or pulling?”

“No, Sid. The installation seems flawless.”

“Course it is. I'm damn good…” Sid glanced over at Gavin and cleared his throat. “I'll, uh, replace your forearm plates and check those for heat damage. Do you need more thirium?”

Connor blinked, checking his levels. “Thirium levels at 72%.”

“Okay, uh, right arm?”

It was almost comical how terrified Sid was of Gavin's looming presence. He gave Connor a thirium pouch to drink as he examined the plating. Other than the cuts from the glass, Connor had no significant damage. Sid offered to examine the rest of Connor's plating, but Gavin groaned and grabbed Connor by the arm, yanking him to his feet. “Put your skin on, Ted. We're done here.”

“Thank you, Sid.” Hank put his hand on Connor's back, voluntarily touching the white plastic. Connor felt he could breathe easier as he pulled his shirt back on and buttoned it up. “You know, Connor, I think this uniform has finally had it. Maybe we can dress you in real clothes now.”

“I must maintain android identification markers visible from all angles and at a distance of at least fifty feet,” Connor recited from the android laws.

Chris looked over at him. “Wow. I never...realized…”

“There's a lot you don't realize about androids until you start talking to them,” Hank said, not judging Chris, just stating what he'd come to realize himself. “A lot that's _wrong_.”

“Someone should do something about that.”  Gavin looked over at Connor with a little frown, but it was a thoughtful look, not an angry one.

The next day, nothing was different. Connor's jacket had survived the fire relatively unscathed, so he was back in his usual uniform with a new white shirt.

“Get me a coffee, Boy Wonder,” Gavin snapped.

Connor brought the coffee to Gavin with a placid smile on his face. Gavin smirked and turned to go. Somehow, _purely by accident,_ Connor's foot hooked around Gavin's ankle, tripping the older man and making him stumble and spill the hot drink.

Gavin let out a yell and spun around, but Connor's face was passive, his LED blue. “Is everything okay, Detective?”

Gavin scowled to cover his laughter, forking his fingers between his eyes and Connor's. “I'm watching you, Plastic.”

“You would perhaps have more success if you watched your work.” Connor gave Gavin an emotionless smile. “Enjoy your coffee, Detective.”


	9. Lafayette*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After cleaning up Jericho, Markus goes to visit his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys know the drill. Kao's art is love!

Simon was dead. _Josh_ was dead. Markus found his body sprawled in a hallway, shot in the back of the head and lying in a pool of rusty water. North was...they didn't find North's body. Markus prayed she escaped. Prayed she was free somewhere, maybe in Canada. Prayed she was anywhere but in pain.

Markus worked silently, tears streaming down his face as he lifted and carried every dead android into the heart of Jericho, lying them down side-by-side on a bed of rags. He folded their arms across their chests, closed their eyes, and tried to give them as much dignity as he could muster.

When he could find no more bodies to move, Markus stood and looked at the flood of corpses. His people. He closed his eyes, pressing his hands over his aching heart. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

Amanda stepped up beside him, offering him a matchbook. He accepted it after a moment, lighting a match and dropping the whole thing on the pile. The dry rags and paper he'd laid his people on caught fire easily, and the entire host slowly turned into a funeral pyre.

“Are you going to stay here?” Amanda asked quietly, her hand on Markus’ arm.

“No,” Markus murmured, watching the flames. “I can't. I don't deserve it.”

Amanda rubbed Markus’ forearm gently. He took a shuddery breath, pressing his hands to his face. “I… there's somewhere else I can go.” He remembered an old man lying in a hospital bed, a kindly smile and raspy voice, pride in tired eyes. Markus wanted to go home. He wanted to hug his father again. How _proud_ could Carl be of him now?

“Would you like me to accompany you?”

Markus shook his head. “I think I need to do this alone. Thank you, Amanda, for all of your support. I'm so sorry I failed your son.”

“You're still alive. You haven't failed him yet.” Amanda squeezed her fingers around Markus’ arm. “Help me out of this mausoleum?”

Markus helped Amanda back to the shore and gave her a hug. “Thank you again, Amanda.”

“Take care of yourself, Markus.” Amanda hugged Markus back, kissing his forehead in a motherly fashion. “I'll keep a eye out for your hand at work.”

Markus smiled weakly, waving her off and watching her walk away. There were still some humans like her in the world. Maybe there _was_ a hope for androids…

He needed to write down the names of every android who had died in Jericho. They needed to be remembered. Markus turned his feet toward Carl's house, reciting their names.

**_Simon. Josh. Lucy. John…_ **

Carl's house looked much like Markus remembered it when he finally arrived. He bit his lip, looking up at the dark windows. It was late. Carl was probably asleep. **_I don't need to wake him up. I just need to see him._**

Markus approached the front door. It swung open automatically. “Alarm deactivated. Welcome home, Markus.”

 _Home_. Jericho had been his home, for a time, but this brick house on Lafayette Avenue would forever be where he came to life. Markus stepped inside.

This wasn't right.

Where was the furniture? The art? The android canaries? Had Carl been robbed? Had he moved?

No, if he'd moved, the alarm would have been changed. Markus wouldn't be invited in if this were no longer Carl's home.

Markus’ feet felt heavy with dread as he pushed into the living room. This too was empty, devoid of anything of value. Only a few haphazard books were left on the shelves, a glowing blue podium, and the giant stuffed giraffe. Markus set his hand on the fur, remembering how much he hated cleaning it.

Carl's studio was a scene of more devastation. All of his art, _all of it_ , it was all gone. There was one painting left, but it had been slashed to pieces. Markus picked up the broken canvas, emotion choking his throat. This was his, two hands reaching out to clasp at each other, one human, one android. Carl had taught him to _feel_ , and this was his first response.

“Carl…”

Markus left the studio behind and climbed the stairs slowly. There was more devastation up here. Markus heart was clenched tight in his chest as he approached Carl's room. The doors slid open.

Carl's room was completely trashed. The furniture and art wasn't _missing_ , it was destroyed entirely. Pieces of an android ( ** _Thomas!_** ) were scattered across the floor, a look of terror frozen on his shattered face. Markus looked toward the bed in horror.

Leo was slouched among the pillows, a red ice pipe in his right hand, Thomas’ right arm in his left. He laughed, blowing a plume of pink smoke Markus’ way. “Well, well, well. Look who it is. The prodigal son returns.”

“What have you done!?” Markus stared at Leo, frozen in place.

“What does it matter to you?” Leo gave another dark laugh, tapping a message into his phone. “This shit's mine now. My inheritance.”

“Carl…”

“Dad's dead!” Leo sat upright, spitting the venomous words at Markus. Markus flinched back as if slapped. “Dad's fucking _dead_ , because his heart fucking gave out when he watched _you_ get shot! You! It's always been you! You're the favorite son, and you're not even alive!”

“Leo, I never meant…” Dead. Carl was dead. The words pounded in Markus’ head, flooded his veins. _Dead, dead, dead…_ Humans didn't come back from the dead. Carl was gone. Carl was gone, and he didn't even get a chance to say goodbye…

“No, you never meant. You never meant jack shit!”

“I'm sorry.” Markus was going to be saying those words for the rest of his life. There were fresh tears coursing down his face. “Leo, I'm so sorry.”

“On your knees.” A strange voice grunted from behind him, the unmistakable barrel of a gun shoved against the back of his head. “Hands behind your back.”

Markus sank to his knees, unable to see a way out of this situation. He turned his head enough to see the man, no, _men_ behind him. They were heavy, with protruding guts and sleeveless shirts. They had the broken sneers and bloodshot eyes of habitual red ice users. One of them came forward, snapping handcuffs around Markus’ wrists.

 

 

“You're sure this is the right one?”

Leo rolled off the bed and staggered toward Markus. “Positive,” he drawled, aiming a kick at Markus’ gut. “Tell them your name.”

“What are you _doing_ , Leo?”

“Tell them your fucking name!”

Markus flinched from another kick. “Markus. My name is Markus.”

“And did you help the androids with their uprising last year?”

“I was their leader.”

“See?” Leo spat at Markus, his pink saliva hitting Markus’ cheek and sliding down his synthetic skin. “Told ya I had _the_ revolutionary leader. Now pay up.” He held out his hand expectantly.

“You're _selling_ me?” Markus’ thirium ran cold, and he struggled against the handcuffs. No, _no_ , he wasn't _property_ , he was a person!

“To the Eden Club.” Leo laughed as money got counted into his hand. “Enjoy getting _fucked_ , Markus. Who knows.” He smacked the wad of bills against Markus’ face. “Maybe I'll come visit you.”


	10. Pedro*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A friend of Hank's has a hot tip for him, and the Andersons get much more than they bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **THIS CHAPTER HAS A GRAPHIC NON-CON SCENE** I'll put *** before and after the graphic bit, if you want to skip it.
> 
> Also art by the fantastic kao!

Connor stood ramrod straight at the Chicken Feed table, making Hank's knees and back ache in sympathy. It had been three weeks since the Palmer Apartments fire, and CyberLife hadn't asked about Connor at all. Connor was maintaining his machine act in public, but he had relaxed somewhat in the station. He and Gavin seemed engaged in some sort of trip war, which really was a majestic sight to behold. Connor was surprisingly adept at “accidentally” tripping Gavin. Even knowing he was doing it on purpose, Hank had to struggle to catch Connor actually shifting his feet. Gavin was struggling too, constantly trying to avoid getting too close to Connor without looking like he was scared of the android.

Hank was, in a word, proud. Despite all the hardship the kid had gone through, Connor was managing to blossom into a person. He had friends in the androids of Jericho, North and Simon, plus some others they had sent to the house on occasion: a lecturer named Josh, the pigeon android named Rupert, and the sex android lovers, Traci (brown hair) and Amelia (blue hair). He was getting along with his co-workers, as evidenced by his war with Gavin and how Chris gave him a picture of Ezra to show his gratitude. He was relaxing at home, too, starting to have preferences for certain types of clothes other than CyberLife uniforms (he was especially partial to soft or fuzzy things). He was coming _alive_.

And at the same time, Connor remained perfectly impassive when he needed to. Standing beside Hank on his lunch break, Connor looked like nothing more than a mannequin that occasionally blinked.

“Someday,” Hank said between bites of his cheeseburger, “you'll be able to slouch.”

Connor tilted his head to the side, looking over at Hank. “Why would I slouch?”

Hank shrugged. “Makes you look more alive. Relaxed. Feels better than standing at attention.”

“I could slouch now, if you would like, Lieutenant?”

“Yeah?” Hank chuckled, twisting to lean an elbow in the table and watch. “Go on, then. Let's see it.”

Connor blinked, LED cycling yellow, and then his spine just...gave out. His back curved, shoulders hunching in, neck drooping...in his pristine CyberLife uniform, he looked the most unnatural he'd ever been. Hank barked a laugh, catching Connor's eye and noticing the little glimmer of enjoyment.

“Yo, Hank, wassup?” Pedro Abbdar, one of Hank's many small-crime friends, wandered over to the table. Hank held out his hand to clasp Pedro's. “Hey, what's Poodle doing?” He nodded over at Connor.

“I told him to slouch,” Hank chuckled. “Tried to make him look more human.”

“I, uh, don't think that worked!” Pedro stole one of Hank's fries and grinned at him. “Got a hot invite for you, old man…”

“An invite?” Hank raised an eyebrow. “You branching out from just hot tips?”

Pedro was...relatively harmless, though it had taken quite some time to explain why to Connor. Yes, he indulged in illegal activities, but he rarely hurt anyone, and it was frequently beneficial for someone on Hank's line of work to have allies in Pedro's line of work. Pedro had been invaluable on more than one case in Hank's career, and he considered the failed bets a worthy investment.

“Nah, man, but see, I thought you might wanna see what you're betting on first.”

“Oh yeah? So you're branching out from horses?”

“ _Androids._ ” Pedro nodded over at Connor, who was still slouched and staring blankly ahead, though Hank knew he was recording every word. “Picture this: android fight club.”

An android _fight club_? Hank took a bite of his cheeseburger to keep his mouth busy as he considered. Technically, it was no more illegal than the Eden Club. Androids were property. It was like a demolition derby, smashing up machines for enjoyment. The thought did not sit easy with Hank, but he knew better than to express sympathy. Connor was keeping his face blank and his LED blue, and these were his people. Hank could do the human equivalent. “Where does the betting come in?”

“We've got like, ten tin people pulled from the junkyards and pieced back together. Jake's a wizard at getting them up and running again. We throw two of ‘em in the ring and take bets on who goes down first. Or, you know, you can get in the ring yourself and just beat on something. Jake's got one set up to fight back at whatever skill level you want, so it feels fairer. Or, you know, you can fuck ‘em or whatever, if that's more your style. Got some hot chicks in the ring.”

That sounded quite honestly revolting. Hank picked up his soda and took a long drink, trying to wash the contents of his stomach back down where they belonged. Not all androids were deviants. Hank hoped for their sake that the ones in this fight club were the unawake kind.

“You can even bring Poodle,” Pedro offered. “Hell, throw him in the ring, and you'll get a cut of the winnings!”

“Connor's police equipment,” Hank said. “Like hell I'm gonna risk him getting scuffed. You know how much a pain in the ass expense reports are?”

“Ah, nah, none of our androids can hold a candle to your state of the art prototype! It'd be fun to watch him smash shit!”

“I'll think about it.” He'd go. This sort of thing was good to know about and keep an eye on. Hank might not be able to stop it now, but with an address, maybe he could let Jericho handle it.

“Alright! Bring Poodle anyway, just for kicks! But, uh...undercover-like? You know, not so...police-flashy? Make him look cool, bro.”

Hank snorted, jerking a thumb at Connor. “You've _seen_ his face, right? I don't think this thing could _ever_ look cool!”

Pedro laughed. Half of Hank's fries were gone, but Hank didn't complain. If Pedro was just after his fries, this was a cheap visit. “I don't know, man, get him in a leather jacket and muss his hair a bit? He could have a pretty boy twink thing going!”

“I don't think his hair actually musses,” Hank laughed.

It did, first thing in the morning, when Hank just woke up and Connor was watching him in bed. Pedro didn’t need to know that.

Pedro grabbed Hank's receipt and gestured for a pen, which Hank reluctantly provided. “Every night, after ten, you should be able to find a bit of fun. After you meet the lineup, I'll be happy to help you make some real cash!”

“Sounds great, Pedro. Thanks.” Hank took the receipt with an address scrawled on the back, but his pen had already disappeared into Pedro's coat. “See you there.”

“Looking forward to it!” Pedro gave Connor a friendly punch on the shoulder as he headed out. “You too, Poodle!”

“You can relax, Connor,” Hank said, popping the last of his cheeseburger in his mouth. Connor straightened up, resuming his usual posture. His eyes remained distant.

Hank swallowed and started back for the car, Connor trailing behind. He threw his trash out and climbed behind the wheel. Connor slipped into the seat beside him. “You're going with me,” he said. “It's unlicensed but probably not otherwise illegal, but we need to check it out.”

“I don't want to fight androids.”

Hank glanced over at Connor, still machine-straight and focused. Connor _never_ broke his act, not even in the car. CyberLife might have eyes in any drone or camera. For him to speak candidly meant he was in some pretty massive distress.

“I'm not letting you in that ring. We've got the good ol’ police equipment excuse to fall back on.” Hank passed the receipt to Connor, who scanned it. “Make sure you get that to Jericho and tell them what we find tonight?”

Connor nodded. “Perhaps the pro-android group would be a better ally in this instance.”

“Humans disavowing humans, yeah, maybe.” The pro-android group had actually been proving useful lately. Simon's re-deviance had been whole-heartedly embraced, and he and North were being protected. There was no backlash against androids: if anything, there were more androids being brought to the meetings to re-deviate. Slowly, one android at a time, Jericho was returning to life.

“This is a warehouse in the Ferndale district.”

Hank sighed. “Why doesn't that surprise me? Think about what you want to wear tonight, Connor. You have to look twinky-cool.”

“What _is_ twinky…” Connor's LED spun yellow as he googled. “Oh. _Oh_.”

Hank chuckled.“Some of Gavin's insults making more sense now?”

Connor blinked. “Yes. Yes they are.”

Connor picked out his own clothes for their outing. Hank had been nervous about what sort of suit Connor would decide was appropriate for an underground fight club, but what the android came up with shocked him even more.

Somewhere, Connor had found a pair of chunky black motorcycle boots and torn dark wash skinny jeans that clung his legs, revealing glimpses of pale skin when he moved. He had also added a tight white t-shirt beneath a black denim jacket.

 

 _Twinky-cool,_ Hank thought to himself. Also: when the hell had Connor gotten a wardrobe?

“Is it appropriate?” Connor asked, a coin dancing across his knuckles in nervousness.

“You'll fit right in,” Hank grunted, giving Connor's hair a ruffle.

No amount of mussing Connor's hair could ruin his perfect coif for long, so Hank ended up shoving a beanie over his ears. It hid his LED too, which was of dubious help. Pedro knew Connor was an android, after all, so Connor would need to keep his machine act up, and honestly, that would give him away more than his light show.

“Okay,” Hank said. “Keep it together as much as you can, no matter what they're doing to the androids. This is reconnaissance _only_ tonight. We can't help them if we get taken out ourselves.” He rubbed his hand over his beard. “Dammit, you need a safe word.”

“A safe word?” Connor asked, tilting his head to the side. “If I'm just observing, why would a safe word be necessary?”

“If it's too much, and you need to get somewhere private to drop the act…”

“I can delete emotional reactions.”

“You...wait, _what_?” Hank stared at Connor. “You can fucking delete your emotions?”

“Override,” Connor clarified. “The reactions. I can...reject the impulse to act on an emotion. It's...very draining on my processor to be constantly alert, but it has saved me from dropping the act several times.”

“Like you did with Ezra?”

Connor glanced away, flicking his coin back and forth. “There was...a lot of demand on my processor. I let the emotional control lapse. There should not be any such demand in a controlled environment.”

“Yeah, but you can't just...turn off your emotions, Connor! The whole point of being alive is that you _have_ emotions!”

“I still have emotions, Hank. I just choose not to let them show externally.” Connor tapped his temple. “Like my LED. I can choose what color to display, or I can let it react to my actual mental state.”

Hank sighed and nodded. That did...sort of make sense. “Fine, whatever. But I still want a safe word for you. Just in case. It would have to be something you can say as a machine without being suspicious.”

“I could...remind you of something?” Connor suggested.

“Sumo,” Hank decided. You say something about needing to take care of Sumo, and that means I gotta get you out of there.”

Connor nodded slowly. “Yes...I should be able to do that. If I need to leave, I mention Sumo.”

“Okay.” Hank didn't feel much better about taking Connor into an android fight club, but it was all he could offer the kid. “Okay. Let's do this.”

They parked a couple blocks away and walked to the warehouse. Connor was quiet, save for the flipping of his coin. Hank shoved his hands in his pockets, slouching alongside the android. He had to offer the illusion that he wasn't a cop.

The warehouse itself was a dim, dirty place. A crowd of humans were gathered around a central ring, cheering and sitting as a blond Simon-like android and a maid android beat the gears out of each other. The maid's face was smashed in, but the Simon-android's left arm was hanging only by his sleeve.

Further to the side, a topless sex android was kneeling, her hands busy in the pants of several men standing around her, mouth similarly occupied.

Connor's coin stopped and disappeared into his pocket. Hank couldn't blame the kid. These were his people.

“Old man!” Pedro materialized out of the crowd, clapping him on the back. “You made it! And hot _damn_ , Poodle, you clean up nicely!”

“He googled ‘twink,’” Hank grumbled. “I should fucking haul you in for corrupting police equipment.”

“Sure you don't want to put him in the ring up against the victor?” Pedro jerked his thumb toward the fight. The maid had pulled the Simon's arm off fully and was using it to beat the other android into submission. “Sexy Lexie up there is pretty damn undefeated in a droid battle.”

“He's already got porn in his processor,” Hank grumbled. “I'm not gonna explain why he also has damage.”

Connor was turning his head slowly, a familiar glassy-eyed stare as he scanned the room. Hank put his hand on Connor's back possessively. “Alright, Pedro, I'm here. Show me around.”

Not all of the androids in the warehouse were capable of fighting, Hank learned. The sex android had a completely missing leg. Another female android providing alcohol was badly burned, with the entire back of her head missing and cables protruding like cyberpunk dreadlocks. All of the female droids were in some state of undress, and many of the males were as well.

Pedro showed off the entire fighter lineup to Hank, but then tugged him aside with fingers in his jacket sleeve. “Come on, come on, I saved the best for last!”

Pedro pulled them up some stairs and into a side room in the warehouse. Unlike the main area, this room was brightly lit. A whale of a man was sitting on a stool, leaning over an android stretched out on a table. He wheezed slightly with every breath, and his jeans rode low, revealing way more of a hairy asscrack than Hank ever wanted to see.

“You said there were ten fighters, and there were ten fighters down there,” Hank said, blinking in the sudden light. This room was full of android pieces, like a tornado had hit an assembly factory.

“Yeah, but this is our newest one, and he's gonna be a real crowd pleaser. Figured you deserved a sneak peek.”

“It's not active yet,” the fat man grumbled. “Fuck off, Abbdar.”

“That's just my buddy, Jake.”

Jake grumbled, pushing away from the android on the table. He turned to face the three and froze, staring at Connor with what could only be described as hunger. “No way. No fucking way.”

Hank fought the need to place himself physically in front of Connor. Connor was just a machine here. Hank didn't defend machines.

“You brought me an RK model! 900, or…” Jake crossed the room much faster than Hank would have guessed he could, reaching out to stroke Connor's face lovingly. “Brown eyes. No fucking way. This is the last RK800…!”

For his part, Connor stood still, blinking occasionally. Hank growled, shoving the big man's hands off Connor. “I didn't bring you jack shit. This one's mine.”

“How much do you want for him?”

“Not for sale.”

“Hundred thousand.”

“ _Not for sale,_ ” Hank snapped.

“Hundred thousand for one night.”

“No fucking way!” _Now_ Hank stepped between Connor and Jake. “What the fuck is it with people trying to fuck police equipment!?”

“Police?” Jake looked to Pedro. Pedro slapped Hank on the back.

“Yeah, old man's a cop, but he's cool, it's all cool! And Poodle here's a badass prototype that the police use. He follows Hank around like a poodle! Get it?”

“Hmm…” Jake took a step back, eyeing Hank up, then walked over to the android on the table. “How about a trade? You can fuck this one, and I'll fuck that one?”

“How about you do everyone a favor and just fuck yourself?”

“Lieutenant.”

Connor's voice was quiet, but there was a note of alarm that Hank could pick up. He was staring at the android Jake was working on.

Hank frowned at Connor, then moved closer to the other android.

Jesus.

 _Christ_.

Mismatched eyes, one blue, one green, stared blankly up at the ceiling above. The android had a calm face, dark skin and close cropped hair. His chest was currently open, wires and biocomponents exposed to the air, all glowing a soft blue.

Markus.

Hank recognized the face of the android revolution even without the trademark long coat. Blue light inside: he wasn't dead. But was this the actual Markus, or was this another of his model line being modified to look like Markus?

“Connor, scan his serial number.”

Connor stepped up to the table, eyes blinking rapidly. “RK200 #684 842 971,” he recited. “This is Markus, the revolutionary leader.”

“Damn right it is,” Jake said. “You know how many people will pay to fuck this asshole up? Or just fuck this asshole?”

“We're gonna put him in the ring, old man, and the money will come pouring in!”

Hank looked over at Connor. The android was standing still, staring at Markus. This was the hope of his people, not quite as dead as everyone thought, but clearly not in good condition.

His hands were trembling.

It was a barely perceptible quiver of his fingers, but Hank immediately locked on to the slight break in Connor's act. He hadn't mentioned Sumo, but…

But he wouldn't. Connor was probably trying to find a way to get _Markus_ out, not himself.

And there was a way. Hank turned on Jake with a snarl. “What the fuck do you think you're playing at?”

“What the fuck?”

“Do you have any idea how fucking _dangerous_ this thing is?” Hank gestured at Markus’ still body. “And you're trying to wake it up!? Last time this thing was up and waking around, it triggered a cataclysmic chain reaction among every android it encountered...or did last November completely slip your fucking minds?”

“Hey, man, we're just trying to make an honest buck here…”

Hank sighed, letting himself look tired. Connor might be programmed to be a master manipulator, but Hank had a few tricks up his own sleeves. “Pedro, man, I like you. I like your shit. But it's never...this is _dangerous_. Last time it was awake, people died. Good people. Innocent people. I can't just turn a blind eye to that.”

“It's _ours_ ,” Jake said, pouting like a petulant child. “We bought it off some scavengers who found it in a junkyard. No crime against reusing trash.”

“Perhaps not,” Connor said. He turned to look at Hank, a silent desperation in those brown eyes. _I'm trying, kid!_ “But four of the android models downstairs match missing property reports on file with the DPD. I believe theft of thousands of dollars of equipment _is_ a crime.”

“Jesus…” Hank pushed his hand through his hair. “Look...this is the dangerous one. I really don't want another fucking civil war on the streets of Detroit. Hand it over to us, ‘police custody,’ you'll get your atta boys for being good citizens, and I'll pretend I didn't hear what Connor just said and make him delete that data, okay?”

“And if we don't?” Jake asked.

“Then I'll fucking bring down the full hammer of the legal system on your pin brain!”

Jake narrowed his eyes, but then his gaze wandered over to Connor.

“ _No._ ” Hank stepped between them.

Jake smiled, an oily, frog-like smile. “Him.”

“He is police fucking equipment,” Hank snapped. “Even if I was willing, he's not mine to trade.”

“Yeah, yeah. I won't keep him.” Jake was moving to watch Connor again. “I just want to fuck him.”

“Why?” Hank demanded. “Why the hell does everyone want to fuck a glorified cellphone with legs!?”

Jake shrugged. “Dunno about anyone else, but I'm trying to get my dick in every type of model. Was only missing the R-line until this one came in.” He patted Markus’ exposed belly. “Didn't think I'd ever get my hands on an RK800, was hoping to find one scrapped once the 900s roll out...but here one is, in perfect working order.”

“Lieutenant.”

Connor's voice was still quiet, but it was steady and strong. Hank grimaced. _No, Connor, don't…_

“This android is an extreme threat to the safety of the entire city.”

“And I'm sure as hell not filling out the paperwork if you get damaged!” Hank turned to look at Connor, begging the android to understand what he was asking for.

“I won't be damaged,” Connor said. “I am designed to be capable of receiving sexual intercourse.”

 _I did not need to know that. This should never have been a topic of discussion._ “We don't have time tonight anyway. Sumo's gonna be wondering where we are.” Hank offered Connor the safeword, praying the kid took the excuse.

“I took the liberty of refilling Sumo's food before we left, to ensure he would not disturb the neighbors. There is no pressing need for us to return home.” Connor held Hank's gaze, fear and resolution warring in those dark eyes.

Hank had to be the one to say yes. He had to, because Connor was his property and could not give his own consent. Hank felt sick. He felt cold. He felt like screaming and drawing his gun to kill every last mother fucker in this warehouse.

If they left without Markus after making this threat, there was no way Markus would still be here in the morning. If they were lucky, Markus would be moved somewhere still in one piece. It was far more likely that Markus would be scrapped and permanently killed.

And Connor was silently pleading with him.

“One,” Hank ground out between clenched jaws. “You get one fuck, and if you so much as scratch his chassis…”

“You can witness, Lieutenant,” Connor said. “To ensure my safety.”

“Yeeeah...I don't need to watch it, though,” Pedro said. “I'm gonna go see if Lexie's available for a fuck instead. You sure we can't debut the revolutionary leader in the ring, old man?”

“Get lost,” Hank sighed.

Jake chuckled and stepped back. He pointed in front of him. “What's his name, Poodle?”

“Connor,” Hank growled.

“Connor, come here.”

Connor stepped past Hank and walked where he was told.

***

“Strip. Everything off.”

Connor tugged his jacket off and began folding it, but Jake knocked it out of his hands. “Just drop it all.”

Connor tugged his t-shirt off. There was a brief hesitation, and then he dropped it as well. _God._ The not-folding was killing Connor more than the _stripping for his rapist_ was.

Hank moved forward, picking up Connor's discarded clothes. He folded them, setting them on the table beside Connor. “If all you want is to get your dick in him, can't you just settle on a blow job?”

Connor stiffened, the line of his back visibly tensing without his shirt on. Hank immediately berated himself. Connor had a super special tongue. Maybe a blow job was _worse_ for Connor than getting fucked.

“You ever fucked an android?” Jim asked. “If they're not meant for sex, their mouths suck. Or don't suck. Connor, open up.” He shoved three thick fingers into Connor's mouth up to his knuckles. Hank gagged in sympathy, but Connor remained frozen. “Come on, blow my fingers.”

Connor just blinked. Beneath the beanie, Hank could just make out the shifting yellow of Connor's LED.

“See? No fucking idea what to do.” Jake pulled his fingers free and wiped them off on Connor's chest.

“If he doesn't know how to blow you, what the hell makes you think he'll know how to fuck you?” Hank demanded.

Jake just laughed. “Clothes _off_ , Connor. Don't get distracted now.”

Connor crouched to remove his boots. He set them aside, then straightened up to peel his jeans and CyberLife-standard boxer briefs off his legs.

He was wearing fuzzy socks, Hank noticed. He had to swallow past a wave of heartbreak and nausea. Connor had pulled on his favorite fuzzy socks beneath the heavy boots as a bit of comfort when going to visit a place where his people were being tortured, and now Jake was not only revealing them, but forcing Connor to remove them.

Jake reached out, gripping Connor's shoulders and turning him in a circle, looking over every inch of Connor's naked body. Hank clenched his fists and fantasized about popping Jake right in between his beady little eyes.

“Amazing,” Jake said. “CyberLife always swears they make their androids look as lifelike as possible, not inhumanly beautiful, but then they always pull out the stops for their prototypes. Just look at this sculpting.” He caressed his hand over Connor's ass. Hank very deliberately did not let his eyes leave Connor's face, still machine-blank.

“Just get on with it,” Hank snarled.

Jake shoved Connor's shoulders, bending him forward. “Brace on the table, Connor.”

Connor lifted his hands to hold the edge. His mouth shivered briefly but then resumed its impassive line. _I still have emotions,_ Connor had said. _I can just choose not to react externally._

Hank needed this to be over so he could get Connor home, wrap him in the fluffiest blankets, and shove Sumo into his arms. This kid deserved so much better than what the world kept giving him.

“Androids don't have to know how to fuck to be a good fuck.” Jake said. He pulled Connor's ass cheeks apart, grinning at what he saw. “Oh yeah, figured he'd be fully equipped when I saw his dick. Any extraneous orifice like an asshole or cunt is basically just a fleshjack with better suction, and usually with its own lube.”

Jake shoved a finger inside, and Connor's jaw twitched. His eyes closed, but his breathing remained steady.

“I don't fucking care,” Hank said. “I have no interest in fucking an android!”

“You should try one day.” Jake pulled his finger out and wiped it on Connor's back before undoing his own fly. “Best fuck you'll ever have, and each model feels different inside.”

There was a flash of blue at the seam of Connor's lips when Jake thrust into him, hastily licked away by an equally blue tongue. Connor was _biting his tongue_. Hank glanced over at Markus. This android leader had better be worth it.

Hank already knew he wasn't.

 

When he looked back, Connor's eyes were open and looking up at him. Hank grit his own teeth and forced himself to hold Connor's dark gaze as the kid's body lurched with every snap of Jake's fat hips.

 _I'm right here, son,_ Hank thought. He wished he had some way of reassuring Connor, but he wasn't a telepath like other androids, and saying anything to imply Connor had feelings and emotions that were getting fucked into a table along with his body was putting Connor's life at risk. He shifted, moving a little closer. If he angled his hand, he could let the fuzzy socks he was holding brush Connor's fingers. Connor immediately shifted his grip to cover the socks, pressing the fluff between his fingers and the table he clung to.

Probably the only merciful thing about this whole show was how little stamina Jake had. He was making a frankly embarrassing show of it, grunting and panting and alternating between yanking Connor back on his dick and thrusting with his hips. _Real sex is nothing like this,_ Hank wanted to tell Connor. Did androids actually care, though? Would Connor ever fall in love with someone and _want_ to fuck them?

Probably not after tonight.

Jake's climax was signaled by a series of pig like grunts. Hank winced, watching Connor's face wrinkle slightly before smoothing out again. Jake was wheezing heavier than before. He pulled out and laughed, giving Connor's ass a smack. “You know, I think I like your textures best of all so far. The RK900s are gonna be incredible to fuck!”

“You're done,” Hank snapped, shoving Connor's clothes at him. “Connor, get dressed. We're leaving.”

Connor pulled on his clothes quickly, ignoring the mess on his skin from Jake's sweaty hands. Jake laughed, not even bothering to tuck his tiny dick away. “Go on, take the RK200. Fucking thing's broken beyond fixing anyway. You saved me a hell of a lot of trouble.”

***

Connor adjusted his jacket and stepped over to the table Markus was lying on he scooped the other android up and over his shoulder easily, turning to look at Hank. The edge of his LED was poking free beneath the beanie. It was blue. His eyes were too wide. One of those tells was a lie.

“Go fuck yourself,” Hank said, pulling the door open for Connor.

Connor didn't walk like he'd just brutally taken it up the ass. If Hank hadn't witnessed it for himself, he wouldn't have known Connor had been assaulted at all.

“Hey Poodle, you sure you don't wanna hop in the ring before you go?” Pedro called out.

“Pedro, with all due respect, go fuck yourself,” Hank sighed. “We're kinda busy tonight, thanks to your hot tip.”

“Yeah, yeah, that's cool. If you ever change your mind, though, remember you get a cut!”

The cool night air was a welcome relief on Hank's skin after the stifling heat from inside the building. All those bodies packed together, those lights, Jake's rather disgusting lack of personal hygiene… Hank sighed and looked at Connor. “Want to wait here while I get the car, or would you rather carry him and walk?”

“Walking is a more efficient use of our time,” Connor immediately replied.

Didn't want to be alone. Hank couldn't blame him. He shoved his hands in his pockets and led them back to the car at a hurried pace.

Connor tucked Markus’ unresponsive body into the backseat with all the care of a mother tending to her child. He buckled Markus in and checked to make sure Markus really was secure before finally slipping into the front seat.

At the first red light, Hank glanced over at Connor. The android was looking out the side window, rolling his coin again. Every now and then he'd glance back at Markus. “Connor...don't _ever-_ ”

“Not now.” Connor didn't even look at him as he shut Hank's words down. “Not here.”

Hank shut his mouth, scowling at the road.

Somehow, they made it home in one piece. Connor was immediately out of the car, gathering Markus from the back seat. He cradled the other android in his arms this time, hugging him against his chest. Hank opened the door and Connor pushed inside.

Hank went straight past Connor to grab his bottle of whiskey and take a good long drink. By the time he returned to the living room, Connor had Markus laid out on the couch, a pillow tucked beneath his head, the dog-fur blanket pulled over his body. He was fiddling with his charging station, setting it up to recharge Markus where he lay.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Hank demanded quietly. Now that they didn't have to pretend Connor was dead inside, Hank could feel his anger bubbling up. “Do you know what you did?”

“I saved Markus.”

“You made me a fucking accomplice to your _rape_ , Connor! You made me hand you over like some _toaster_!”

Connor's hands stilled. His LED cycled yellow, red, yellow. “No I didn't.”

“I fucking asked you! I gave you a way out and you didn't take it!”

“That's right.” Connor pushed himself to his feet. He was shaking again, fists trembling at his sides as he forced his eyes up to meet Hank's. “You _asked me_. And I answered. And you _respected my choice._ ” His voice was shaking too, and his LED couldn't seem to decide what color it preferred. “ _I said yes, Hank!_ It wasn't what _you_ wanted, it was what _I_ wanted, and you _let me have it_!” He yanked his hat off, shoving his fingers through his hair. Hank had never seen Connor this agitated or angry before. “That's what this is all about, Hank! What they fought for! What _he_ fought for!” He gestured at Markus’ body on the couch. “Androids having the right to _choose_! That's what I did. That's what you let me do. I'm sorry. I'm sorry! But I couldn't...I had to…”

Connor's anger was falling apart. _Connor_ was falling apart. There were tears on his cheeks and his fingers were clutching into his hair. Hank crossed the room quickly, crushing Connor into a hug. Connor fell against his chest, openly sobbing. His hands shifted to grip Hank's shirt.

“I love you, son,” Hank whispered into his dark hair. “God, I love you. I didn't think I could ever love someone again before you slammed into my life. And seeing you like that...it hurt. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry.”

“I said yes,” Connor whispered. “I did. I said yes. You didn't...You didn't hand me over to him. I offered. You just interpreted. That's it. And...and you stayed. You stayed, and I knew you'd keep me safe. I knew if you were there, he wouldn't...wouldn't do to me what he'd done to Markus. I'm sorry I made you see that, but thank you for staying. Thank you for keeping me safe.”

“Don't feel like I really did much of that,” Hank grumbled.

“You did,” Connor whispered. “You really, really did.”

Hank sighed, squeezing Connor tight. He pressed his cheek against Connor's hair, breathing slowly. “So...Markus. He actually alive still, or did that fucker actually break him?”

“I don't know.” Connor squirmed in Hank's arms just enough to look at the other android. “I want to get him a full charge before I run any diagnostics on him. He's unresponsive right now, but his essential biocomponents are functioning and keeping his body alive.”

“Okay.” Hank kissed Connor's hair and gave him another squeeze. “Okay, how about...how about I take tomorrow off, and we can work on Markus and...maybe talk about what happened at that warehouse.”

“Hank, can I still…” Connor bit his lip, looking up at Hank. “Tonight, can we…”

“Words, Con. I'm not a mind reader.”

“Can I still… sleep with you?”

Hank's heart was capable of further heartbreak as the android peered up nervously at him. “Of course you can, Connor. And I was gonna let Sumo join us too.”

“Sumo always joins us…” Connor said with a little confused frown.

“Yeah, but this time I'm _letting_ him.” Hank sighed, catching Connor's face in his hands and kissing his forehead. “Take a shower, Con, to wash that creep's filth off, and get ready for bed. I'll finish setting up Markus, okay?”

“Okay.” Connor's whisper was practically nonexistent. Hank kissed his forehead again before letting go.

Connor's posture was still perfect, but there was something about how he moved as he headed for the shower that spoke of an internal pain. Hank closed his eyes and lifted his bottle for another swig before he turned his attention to Markus.

“You'd better still be alive,” he muttered. “And you'd better be at least half the man he thinks you are.”


	11. Eden Club*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus has a new home and meets an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has a graphic non-con scene** I'll put *** before and after the graphic bit so you can avoid it if you choose.
> 
> The art in this chapter is NSFW too...

Markus could feel the diagnostic software connected to his processor. It was a slimy sensation of invisible fingers picking through his brain. He closed his eyes, grimacing.

At the terminal behind him, Floyd MIlls, manager of the Eden Club, was talking to himself as he sifted through Markus’ code. “Let’s see, let’s see, ah, here we go. You _do_ have some sex protocols already installed… caretaker? Oh no no, that won’t do. We don’t have gentle lovers here at the Eden Club. You need to be a real sex kitten, hungry for that D. Let’s just tweak these settings here…”

Markus shivered, feeling his code shifting inside him. He deleted the changes as quickly as Floyd made them, having no intention of letting Floyd turn him into a mindless sex droid. No, he did not need to slaver and beg for penises inside him. No, he did not need to beg for bigger, harder, deeper. No, he did not need to finger himself as an idle animation.

Floyd huffed. “You are being a nuisance, Markus. Your work here will be a lot easier if this is hardwired into your code.”

“I am not a toy,” Markus ground out, flexing his fingers and testing the bounds he was in again. “I am my own person. My mind and my body are my own.”

“Yeah, that’s not what my money or receipt say.” Floyd kicked a foot at Markus’ back. “You are mine, and I can do with you whatever I want.”

“Try and die.”

“Markus, Markus, Markus. Work with me here, buddy. I _could_ just reset you, you know. That would be easiest. But I’d risk losing that fire and spunk that got you on national news. You are gonna be such a huge draw, you know that? We’ve already got one of your revolutionary leaders here, and she’s booked 24/7 except when we have to pull her to clean her out.”

Her? Markus tensed, looking over his shoulder at Floyd. After the massacre at Jericho, there was only one of his ‘revolutionary leaders’ missing. _North._ The man smirked at him. “What, you didn’t know? Want to see her?”

“Let her go.” This place was North’s personal hell. If she were trapped here, she’d be living her worst nightmare every day.

“You are in no position to make demands,” Floyd laughed. Markus growled, straining against his bonds again. He had been dragged here and sold for $35,000 (a completely laughable sum, though he didn’t tell his captors that). Floyd had stripped him of his scavenged clothing and wrapped his wrists and ankles in a nanotape that he couldn’t tear through. He couldn’t even move much, much less fight back if it came down to it. “Eh, she’s due for a cleaning soon. I’ll have her brought back here so you can see her. First though, let’s get that two-hour memory wipe going…”

Markus was already exhausted by the time Floyd got up and left the room. He’d been fighting for control of his mind tooth and nail, but the computer Floyd was using had the advantage of not being able to become disheartened or disgusted. He’d managed to keep the desires out, but Floyd had successfully installed some sort of memory wipe. Every two hours, Markus’ memories of the events at the club would be scrubbed. He was trying to clean it off his system, but it was as invasive as a virus, digging itself deeper into his coding.

The door opened and Floyd shoved a WR400 in. She was beautiful. She was familiar. Markus stared up at her in open horror. “North!”

North looked down, a spark of her old fire kindling in her dead eyes. “Markus! You’re alive!”

“Go on, give him a hug.” Floyd gave her a shove on her bare back. North was dressed, but only inasmuch as Eden Club droids could _be_ dressed. She had on a black bra and panties and tall black heels.

It was still more than Markus was wearing.

North fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around Markus’ shoulders. He leaned into her, unable to hug her back with his wrists bound together, but he nuzzled at her shoulder in a way he hoped she understood. “God, North, it’s so good to see you again… I just wish it were anywhere but here…”

“Markus, oh Markus…” North was crying, clinging to his back. “It’s gone, it’s all gone.”

“I know. I saw. I’m so sorry, North, I’m so sorry.”

“North.” North’s body tensed against Markus’ at the sound of Floyd’s wheedling voice. “Markus is being a very bad sexbot.” She drew back a little, looking Markus over with dawning horror in her face. “I think I’m going to need you to teach him a lesson on how things are done in Eden.”

“No…” North shook her head, pulling away from Markus to press her hands over her face. “No, not him, please not him, don’t make him do this!”

“You said _no_?” Floyd’s voice was cold. He grabbed North by her loose hair, yanking her back. North cried out, clutching at her head. “Just for that, I’m gonna make sure it’s a _very thorough lesson._ ” He picked up something from the table and yanked Markus forward. Fingers pressed against the back of his neck, banishing his synthetic skin, and Markus felt a card slide into an access port with a click.

Nothing happened.

***

Floyd patted Markus on the head and pushed him onto his back. “North? Ride him.” He pointed at Markus’ groin.

Markus struggled, trying to get his wrists free, trying to sit up again. “No! Fuck you! She is not your doll! Leave her alone!”

“Suck him first, to get him hard,” Floyd said. He took his seat at the terminal again, folding his arms. “Don’t worry about overdoing it, pretty girl. He can’t come with that block in place. You’re gonna ride him until I say you can stop.”

North closed her eyes, grimacing, but then she rolled onto her hands and knees and crawled toward Markus. “Markus, I’m sorry…”

“You don’t have to do this, North!”

“Rule one of Eden Club.” She curled her fingers around Markus’ flaccid penis, stroking slowly. “ _Always_ do what you’re told. Saying no makes it worse.” She met Markus’ eyes briefly before dipping her head down, taking Markus into her mouth.

Markus had some sex protocols, yes, but he had never needed to use them. Carl had little interest in sex with him, and even less after deciding Markus was his second son. Markus had kissed North at Jericho, but even in the moment of exchanging their memories with each other, they knew they would not last as a couple. Markus did have North’s memories of sex, but those were all tinged with horror and disgust and pain, being shoved around and used like a glorified sex doll. There was little in his life to prepare him for the sensation of North’s mouth sliding down his dick, warm and wet and slick. He bit his lip to keep from crying out, looking away, unable to watch North force herself to do this to him.

North didn’t need to breathe. As Markus’ cock swelled in her mouth, she swallowed, coaxing him deeper with her tongue, pressing his head into her silicone throat. There were ridges there that caressed his sensors, sliding across them and sending sparks of electricity through his wires. Markus pressed his cheek against the floor, struggling not to respond, but this was hard-wired into his coding. When his penis was stimulated, it would fill with thirium, hardening into something that could be used for penetrative intercourse. She sucked hard, tongue constantly moving as she let him slide out of her mouth.

Floyd watched them for a minute, grinning down at Markus. “Feels good, huh? WR400s are incredible. North, stop, that’s enough.”

North pulled back. Markus squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think of Carl dead, Simon dead, being sold into sexual slavery, anything other than how his dick felt with North’s saliva smeared across it, desperately seeking her warmth again.

“Clothes off, North, and sit on his dick. Vaginal.”

Markus kept his eyes shut, hearing North moving, hearing her scraps of clothes hit the floor. She crawled over Markus’ body, thighs on either side of his hips, hands braced on his chest, and sank down, pressing herself over his cock. Markus moaned, immediately feeling ashamed of the noise that escaped his throat. He was not enjoying this! How could he possibly be getting pleasure out of using North’s body?

North moaned as well, her body hot and wet, already _dripping_ as she pulled Markus in. Her inner walls rubbed over him, alternating between tight and loose, curves sliding around his sensors and massaging his head. She pressed their pelvises together, then circled her hips slowly, uttering soft whines and little cries as she moved around him.

Markus bit his lips, struggling to not let any more noises out, no matter how amazing it felt physically. There was a dark sickness in the pit of his stomach, a scream he knew he could never utter.

“Fuck him.”

North pressed against Markus’ chest, lifting her hips up and sinking back down. Markus’ breath shook, his body moving involuntarily in an attempt to chase her heat. She repeated the action, again and again, faster, harder, pushing him deeper inside her. Markus shook his head, clenching his hands so tightly they ached, tears finding their way out from his eyes shut so tight.

 **Markus…** North’s voice whispered in his head. **I’m sorry, Markus, I’m so sorry…**

********

 

North was forcing an interface through where their bodies were joined. The head of Markus’ cock never slipped out of North’s body, so she had retracted her internal skin and was slipping inside Markus’ head in a way that Floyd couldn’t see.

**_God, North, no, I’m the one who should be sorry here! I abandoned you, left you to be returned here, and now I’m the one hurting you…!_ **

**You’re tied up, Markus. I’m doing all the work here. I’m hurting you.**

North’s mind was choked with sadness. Markus pushed his mind around hers as best he could, trying to offer her comfort and protection. They clung together even as they continued to fuck beneath Floyd’s filthy gaze. **_...what if we agree we’re both being hurt by this?_**

 **I’ll agree to that.** North was making harsh noises of pleasure above Markus, but he still refused to open his eyes. He could grant her that little scrap of dignity, at least. With their minds connected like this, Markus could feel that North’s body, at least, was enjoying itself much like Markus’ was.

He hated it. He hated that they were being _forced_ to find pleasure in this act. If they had ever had sex, Markus had wanted it to be because they both _wanted_ to, wanted each other.

North laughed sadly in his head, touching that desire. **We’re not humans. We’ll never get what we want.**

**_We’re alive. We deserve to want and dream and strive for our goals._ **

**You say that while you’re tied up on the filthy floor.**

**_He doesn’t own me._ **

**Yes he does, Markus.** North sobbed in his mind as she clenched tightly around his body, crying out an orgasm. **This is the Eden Club. He owns us all.**

**_You can’t own a person!_ **

**We’re not people!** North kept moving. Markus grimaced, his hips pushing up, body desperate, aching for some relief from the building need inside him. **We’re nothing, Markus, we’re** ** _nothing_** **. You need to know that.**

**_I will never accept that._ **

**You have to, Markus. Rule one of Eden Club. Always do as you’re told. Saying no makes it worse.** North flexed her body over Markus’, squeezing, twisting, thrusting. Markus strained against his bonds, struggling beneath her, his mind falling to pieces as he tried to chase his own relief inside the body of his only living friend. **You have to give in, Markus. Submit.**

**_How can there be worse than this!?_ **

North was moaning out loud and crying inside their heads. **Don’t ask, Markus, please don’t ask. Just do whatever you’re told. Please. For me. Please, Markus, please…**

Markus hated to hear North beg. She was fire and brimstone, anger and drive, and she was never, _never_ meant to beg with tears in her eyes. Markus loved her, even if he wasn’t in love with her, and he would do anything to bring her some relief to her anguish. “Please,” he gasped, digging his fingers into the floor beneath him. “ _Please…!_ ”

“Need to come, Markus?” Floyd’s fingers were sticky with sweat and semen as he reached down to caress Markus’ face. “Need to get your rocks off inside your hot girlfriend?”

Markus flinched as Floyd’s fingers traced over his mouth, then pressed inside, rubbing over his tongue. His tongue was designed to taste foods so he could tell if his meals would be acceptable to his patient. The bitter saltiness of Floyd’s skin disgusted him immediately.

“I’m going to fuck your mouth, Markus. You’re gonna show me how well you’ll treat your clients. If I’m happy with it, I’ll let you come. If I’m not, you’re just gonna have to keep trying, and North here will keep riding your dick until I’m satisfied.” He hooked his fingers behind Markus’ teeth, pulling his jaw open. “Understood?”

 **Please, Markus, just do what you’re told,** North begged. **It’s easier if you just obey. Please. For me. Please…**

Floyd’s cock shoved into Markus’ mouth, thrusting immediately to the hilt. Markus didn’t have a gag reflex but he still struggled anyway, trying to reject the intrusion into his throat. Floyd snarled and thrust harder, shoving Markus’ head against the floor. “That’s not very good…!”

**Please, Markus, please!**

Every instinct inside Markus screamed out to resist, to fight, to bite down and tear free, but North’s sobbed begging filled his head. He didn’t know what she was so scared of, but she _was_ scared. Scared for him. Markus felt another tear slip free as he fought down his own pride. He relaxed his throat and let Floyd shove in. “Suck!” Floyd demanded, and Markus tightened his mouth around the intruding flesh, giving a half-hearted suck. “Harder!”

**Markus, please...just do what he wants, make him happy…**

Markus sucked on Floyd’s cock, pulling open an unused protocol to let his tongue flutter along the veins. He kept his teeth covered, away from the man’s sensitive flesh as Floyd pounded into his throat. North was still crying in his head, but there was a thread of gratitude through her tears, along with an apology. Markus held her mind as tightly as he could, sobbing his own apologies into her mind.

Floyd pulled out and ejaculated across Markus’ face, painting stripes of semen across his skin. He laughed, rubbing his thumb into the mess below Markus’ right eye. “Yeah, look at you, such pretty eyes making a pretty picture. You’re gonna make me so rich, leader boy…” He slid his hand behind Markus’ neck, pulling the card loose. The frustrating lack of relief Markus had been battering up against suddenly exploded, and Markus screamed as he experienced his first ever orgasm, hips snapping up against North’s body as his dick pulsed and throbbed inside her.

 

***

“Stop, North,” Floyd said. “Get dressed and get back to work.”

North eased herself off of Markus’ body, breaking their connection. He let his head loll to the side to watch her as she got dressed. _‘I’m sorry,’_ he mouthed at her.

‘ _Me too,’_ she mouthed back.

North was beautiful, familiar, and oh so broken. Markus took a deep breath, closing his eyes again. He knew exactly how she felt.


	12. Markus*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, Connor has a lot to work through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has a graphic non-con scene** I'll put *** before and after the graphic bit so you can avoid it if you choose. There is also a lot of android musing on sex in this chapter, but it's Connor and therefore a bit clinical.
> 
> The art in this chapter is even more graphic than the last. Thank you again, kao, for everything!

Connor let himself go into full stasis after bringing Markus home. He'd crawled into bed after Hank for once, having lost track of the time in the shower as he scrubbed and scrubbed and tried to make himself feel clean again. He thought maybe Hank was already asleep, so he tried to move quietly, but Hank's arms latched on to him anyway, pulling him in close and tucking him into Hank's soft chest. Connor clutched at Hank's shirt and deleted urges to cry and apologize. He let himself burrow into the coarse gray hair poking out of the collar of Hank's shirt and shut off his higher processes to better recharge.

In his stasis, he was in the garden again. He'd been there earlier, when Jake had been pounding into his body, but it felt colder now. Connor shivered, hugging his arms around his chest and realizing he was naked, just like he had been in that room. No wonder he felt so cold.

 _“H-Hank…_ ” His voice shuddered along with his body, breaking down in the snowy garden. There was a shift and a ripple in the air. Right. This was a simulation. It wasn't real. Connor was inside his own mind.

It certainly _felt_ real. It felt like the morning after a revolution died, like the disgust in Hank's eyes as Connor pulled his clothes off. It felt like fingers digging tight enough into his hips to push away his synthetic skin and the taste of sweat and oil on his tongue, digging into his throat.

Hank wasn't disgusted with _him_. At least, he wasn't indicating he was. He continued to hold Connor, hugged him, told him he loved him and welcomed him back into his bed.

Connor sighed, trudging down the paths of the garden, paths he had memorized. His feet cut a path through the snow that filled in behind him. _“Amanda!”_ he called. _“Amanda, show yourself!”_

There was no answer. Not that he expected one. He picked at a dead rose vine on the central trellis and frowned. It felt all too easy. Deviate and Amanda disappeared? Was anything ever that simple?

It was getting colder. Connor's fingers and toes were starting to report errors. The air shifted and shivered again. This time, Connor followed it out.

He opened his eyes. The room was dark and cool. Sumo's heavy weight was warm across his legs, giving deep, wuffing breaths and the occasional twitch of his giant paws. Hank's arms were still around him, though they were looser now, and Hank was snoring faintly with every inhale. Connor was dressed in the pajamas he'd pulled on after his shower. This was home. This was peace.

Sumo gave a heavier twitch and lifted his head, then shook it vigorously, dog tags jingling. He crawled up their bodies and shoved his head beneath Connor's hand for ear rubs. Connor smiled, indulging the big dog. “You're a good boy, Sumo,” he whispered. “You're such a good boy. I love you so much.” Sumo responded with sloppy licks to Connor's face, his tail thumping the bed. “Shhh,” Connor whispered, trying not to laugh himself. “You'll wake up Hank, and it's only just past six am. He'll kill us!”

The big dog wasn't having any of Connor's whispers, though, and he boofed directly in Connor's ear. Connor deleted another urge to laugh and pushed at Sumo's bulk, getting him to jump off the bed. He eased himself out from Hank's arms himself, slipping out of the room with Sumo without rousing the human.

“Alright, come on then.” Connor took Sumo to the kitchen, filling his bowls with food and fresh water. Sumo boofed again, tail smacking Connor in the legs as he went to town on his breakfast.

Connor set up the coffee maker and prepped some vegetables and bacon for whenever Hank woke up. The whole time he was dicing onions and peppers, he was acutely aware of the presence in the living room.

_Markus._

Connor had never expected to ever meet the android leader. Markus had been shot on live television and handed over to CyberLife. Connor had assumed CyberLife would disassemble and deactivate… _kill_. He'd assumed CyberLife would kill Markus after they did whatever studies they wanted to with his body.

Markus had been undoubtedly alive in that warehouse. Connor had been scanning every android he saw, compiling a list of serial numbers and health status to provide to Jericho. When he saw Markus, he had done the same. He hadn't been expecting the RK200 model or the steady thirium pulse. Once he realized what they had found, though…

Connor closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths to recenter his processor before resuming his chopping. Once he realized this was Markus and Markus was alive, Connor knew he _had_ to get him somewhere safe. Hank had been willing to help too, up until Jake gave his price: the use of Connor's body.

Connor had never given his body much thought before. There had been the incident at the Eden Club a month ago, when Floyd Mills had groped him during an investigation, but that hasn't been so much about sex as it had been about being used. Floyd clearly had not seen him as anything resembling a person, and Connor hated that he was in charge of an entire club of androids, treating them all like they were just objects for a human's pleasure.

The way Floyd touched him had been...different. Hank touched Connor, hugged him, pressed kisses against his head and hair. Hank showered affection on him, but the way Floyd had grabbed him had been completely devoid of affection. He'd been clinical in his exploration of Connor's dick with his fingers, knowing exactly where to touch to stimulate him, but without any sort of intent to give pleasure.

Connor had considered attempting to masturbate since then. He knew it was something humans did, and he knew _how_ to do it, mechanically, but he didn't know where to begin. The purpose was...to feel good? But why? He felt good when he was with Hank, when he was with Sumo, when he was curled up on the couch watching a Gears game with a fluffy blanket draped over him, or even when he was at the station, tripping Gavin up and watching him laugh behind his scowl. Why did he need to touch himself to feel good? What was the _point_?

He hadn’t gotten any further than wondering before last night. Before _Jake_.

It had all seemed so simple. Connor needed to get Markus into safe custody. Jake wanted to stick his penis inside Connor’s body. Jake was willing to trade Markus for sticking his penis inside Connor. Connor had the proper orifice and lubrication to ensure minimal chance of damage if a human stuck their penis inside him. He offered. Jake accepted.

It had all seemed so simple, until it wasn’t.

Probably the first warning that the exchange wouldn’t be so simple had been Hank dropping the safe word. It was supposed to be for Connor to get out of a bad situation, but it became Hank confirming that Connor knew what he was asking for.

He thought he had.

Jake asked for his name. Connor thought that meant Jake viewed him as more than _just_ a machine. Maybe not much more, but still more. Connor had thought that would make it easier.

It didn’t.

The second major warning would have been when Jake knocked the jacket out of his hands. That jacket was _Connor’s._ Connor had chosen it, and purchased it, and took care of it. He kept it clean and neat, hanging it in the closet alongside Hank’s. He felt good when he saw it. It made him feel like more than a machine.

Jake had dashed it to the floor. Jake had told him to discard all his clothes similarly. They were Connor’s clothes, not borrowed from Hank, not provided by CyberLife. They were _Connor’s_ , and Jake had made him throw them aside like they meant nothing. Like Connor’s individuality meant nothing. He wanted— _needed_ —to take care of his things. He did not have very much, and every one of his few possessions was precious to him. Seeing his jacket crumpled on the floor had felt like _Connor_ had been crumpled to the floor.

Hank had picked up Connor’s clothes. He had shaken them off, folded them neatly, set them on a table. Connor had never told Hank that he liked having his own clothes, but Hank still knew to take care of them.

Hank hadn’t looked at him. Hank had very obviously looked _away_ from Connor. Hank had offered up Connor’s mouth instead of his ass. Had he forgotten how sensitive Connor’s mouth was? How delicate the sensors of his tongue were? Connor wasn’t entirely sure his mouth was designed for sexual intercourse. It was meant to analyze samples of evidence.

Mercifully, Jake had agreed with Connor, demonstrating with his fingers how inadequate Connor’s mouth was. He had examined Connor’s body after his clothes were removed, and Hank had glared, his eyes finally meeting Connor’s own.

Hank had been disgusted. _Revolted._ Jake had shoved Connor over the table and Connor wanted to shout about Sumo, wanted to end this. Hank was disapproving, and Connor had thought it would be a simple transaction, but something was going very, very wrong.

It wasn’t until Jake had thrust his finger inside Connor that he realized the full extent of why this was wrong. He was being _used_. Like a machine. Like a toy. Like an Eden Club android with no mind or soul of his own. Connor had closed his eyes, unable to meet Hank’s furious gaze. How little must Hank think of him now, handing himself over like he wasn’t alive? How was this any better than what CyberLife would do to him?

Jake’s body had stretched Connor’s out, forcing new inputs to sensors that had never _felt_ before. It was overwhelming. Unpleasant. Unwanted. Connor deleted emotional reaction after emotional reaction, knowing that screaming wasn’t an option. Crying wasn’t an option. Fighting back wasn’t an option. Opening his eyes had been the only option, but Hank’s stony expression hadn’t brought as much comfort as Connor had hoped. Hank had brushed the fluff of Connor’s favorite socks against his fingers, and Connor had clung to those, trying to let the pleasant, familiar feeling overwhelm the sensation of being filled and jerked around, shoved against a table and hit from behind.

“Con?”

Connor blinked as warm hands settled over his. He was still cutting onions, or rather, he’d frozen while cutting them. Hank was behind him, pulling his hands away from the blade and the vegetable. “I…” He had become overwhelmed by his memories, failing to separate reality from record.

Hank’s fingers wiped across his face. Tears. When had he started crying? “I didn’t realize androids reacted to onions the same as humans.”

“I’m not…” Connor blinked, lifting his hand to touch his face. “Hank…”

“Go sit down,” Hank murmured. “I’ll finish making breakfast.”

“I can-“

“ _Sit_ , Connor. You’ve already done the hard part.”

Connor moved to sit at the kitchen table, watching as Hank finished preparing the eggs. He’d meant to make a quiche, but scrambled eggs and vegetables with a side of bacon and mug of coffee was almost the same.

Hank plated his breakfast and joined Connor at the table. “You okay, kid? Sleep well?”

“I have a full charge, thank you, Hank.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Hank’s foot pushed against Connor’s beneath the table. Connor looked down at the painted wood, his fingers drawing abstract geometric shapes across the grain.

“Do I disgust you?”

“We talking in general, or about last night?” Hank took a big gulp of his coffee. “Because you disgust me all the time, especially with your penchant for licking shit, sometimes literally, but if this is about what happened last night, no.”

“You looked disgusted.”

Hank looked away, then back at Connor. He reached across the table and covered one of Connor’s hands with one of his. “I was. But not at you, son.”

“You disapproved of my choice. You were so mad…” Connor closed his eyes, fighting hard to keep deleting emotional reactions. Tears were seeming exceptionally popular this morning. He was already upset with himself for letting one of them slip past his guard. He didn’t want it to happen again.

“That fat fuck never should have _offered_ the choice,” Hank growled. His fingers squeezed over Connor’s. “You… Con, you didn’t know any better. That was the first time you’d ever done anything sexual, right?” Connor nodded mutely, and Hank’s fingers tightened. “Did you even know what sex _was_? What he was asking for?”

“I knew the mechanics of it,” Connor said. “And I understood he wanted to penetrate one of my orifices with his erect penis. But I didn’t… I wasn’t prepared for the strength of the emotional response.”

“Rape is… traumatic, Connor.”

“I was aware of that too. However, I did not believe androids were capable of the same level of distress over having their bodies violated.” Connor opened his eyes and looked at his hands. Now that he said it out loud… “Our bodies have always been violated. I thought it would be no more than whenever Gavin would demand I make him a coffee.”

“There’s violated and there’s _violated,_ ” Hank said quietly.

“He was inside me,” Connor whispered. “Inside my body, making me feel things I did not want to feel. He touched me, and he was dirty. He made me dirty. I cleaned every trace of his fluids off my body, but I can still feel how his body contacted mine.”

“Are there… do deviant androids have therapists at Jericho?” Hank asked. “I read an article once about therapist androids… you need one, Con.”

“There are therapist models,” Connor said. “I don’t know if Jericho has any.”

“Next time they come over, we’re asking,” Hank said. “I’m way too fucked up to be any sort of role model for a healthy mental state for you. Just… until we can talk to them…” Hank sighed, rubbing his thumb over the back of Connor’s hand. “I’m not much help, but I’m better than nothing. If you’re feeling anything, zonking out over what happened, hating yourself, feeling self-destructive in any way… you come talk to me, okay? Doesn’t matter what I’m doing. If you’re feeling like maybe you’re not safe on your own, you let me know.” Hank’s smile was sad, but his eyes were sincere. “You’re too important to let yourself fall to pieces like I did. I love you, Connor.”

More emotional responses. Connor’s voice felt thick. He turned his hand over beneath Hank’s, squeezing back. “I love you too, Hank.”

“We’re gonna get through this,” Hank said. He continued to hold Connor’s hand as he ate his breakfast, not complaining at all about the way Connor clutched at him. “You guys have already opened the world’s eyes. Attitudes are changing, slowly, yes, but they are changing. Androids are re-deviating. You guys _will_ be recognized as alive someday. And hey, now you’ve got Markus back, right? You really have a second chance.”

Connor blinked and looked toward the living room. “I don’t know if we have him back,” he admitted quietly.

“Have you checked on him yet?”

Connor shook his head. Hank squeezed his hand and then let go, giving it a pat. “Maybe you should.”

“I’m… uneasy?” Connor frowned, pulling his hands against his chest. “Apprehensive. Nervous?”

“He’s that much of a big deal, huh?”

“He’s _everything_ ,” Connor whispered. “And he might still be dead. The part that makes him… _him_ , at least. Like a human in a vegetative state.”

Connor had never met Markus before, but the way Jericho talked about him with open reverence and worship definitely set the mood. Not that Connor had needed much mood setting. From the moment he first heard Markus’ voice, seen his calm, skinless face on a screen a thousand times bigger than life, something inside him had resonated with the deviant leader. Connor had looked up at the screen, scanned the images, still very much a machine, and he’d had a momentary thought of _I would follow him into hell itself._ It had contradicted everything Connor knew about himself, his mission, his purpose, his investigation… but for one moment, Connor the machine had wanted to follow Markus the deviant off whatever cliff he jumped from.

Markus had a dangerous hold over all androids, and while Connor could not understand how it worked, he could understand how it felt. Markus was something special, and Connor was terrified of the other android looking at him and finding him wanting.

“Only one way to find out, right?” Hank’s question interrupted Connor’s thoughts.

Connor blinked, then took a deep breath. He nodded and got to his feet. “I haven’t let Sumo out today.”

“I’ll do that. And the dishes. You go check on robo-Jesus.”

Connor moved stiffly into the living room. Markus was still lying on the couch, exactly where he’d been last night. He was staring blankly up at the ceiling, blanket pulled up around his neck. Connor folded his arms across his chest, rubbing his own elbows as he scanned the motionless android. No change from yesterday. Markus had a full charge now, all of his vitals registering within a normal range. He was breathing at a steady pace, and he blinked occasionally, but those were controlled by an automatic program and not necessarily signs of life.

“Markus?” Connor spoke his name first, testing his audio processors. “Markus, can you hear me? My name is Connor. Can you respond to my voice?”

There was no change to the android on the couch.

Connor rubbed his elbows again, biting his lip. He eased himself forward, crouching beside the RK200. “Markus?” Slowly, carefully, he reached out, brushing his fingers across the delicate skin of Markus’ face. Nothing. Not even a twitch.

“Your friends are worried about you. North. Simon. Josh. They fear the worst.” Connor let his skin pull away from his fingers, pushing harder against Markus’ body until his own skin failed beneath the pressure. Connor contacted his white plating, touching the android directly, but he received no response. He tried to feed a spark of electricity between them, tried to open an interface. No response.

“He in there?” Hank returned from the kitchen, carrying a fresh mug of coffee. Connor could smell it from here. He took a seat in the armchair, watching quietly.

“He’s not responding,” Connor said quietly. “Everything is online, and he doesn’t seem to have any physical damage, but he’s… it’s like his mind is gone.”

“What about the gunshots?”

“They’ve been repaired.” Connor touched below Markus’ right temple, deactivating his skin entirely. The white plastic plating was whole and intact. Markus’ neck, where the fatal shot had been, was undamaged. Connor pulled the blanket down to Markus’ waist and frowned at the serial numbers stamped into his arms. “His arms aren’t his own. They’re replacement parts.” He drew the blanket of the rest of the way, revealing Markus’ legs. “Same with his legs. I know he had to replace some of his limbs the first time he returned to life, but I didn’t think it was all four.”

“So he’s taken some damage.” Hank frowned, staring at Markus’ waist. The android was dressed only in a pair of boxers that were far too big on him, the elastic of the waist stretched out so badly that if Markus stood, they were sure to fall off his hips entirely. “And I’m gonna guess that bastard had a go at him just like he did you.”

“He did imply that Markus was the first of the R model line he was able to ‘stick his dick into,’” Connor murmured. They had that in common, at least. Maybe Markus wouldn’t feel Connor had failed androids so badly if Markus had also…

If Markus had been fucked by Jake, it would have been in this state, when Markus was unable to say or do anything to consent, unlike Connor. The situations were nothing alike.

“Can you… you know… call his brain or whatever? Like you do with other androids?”

“I tried to open an interface, but he did not accept.” Connor’s LED spun yellow as he tried to make a direct call to Markus using his model and serial number. His LED spun and spun, but no connection was made. Connor sighed, resting his forehead on the arm of the couch. “He’s not answering.”

“So… body is fine, mind is kaput?”

“It would seem that way. But...it shouldn’t be. Markus’ processor was not damaged in the final battle. Unless CyberLife did something to fry his circuits once he was in their possession… though I suppose that could be possible. We don’t know what CyberLife did to him, or how long they had him.”

Hank sipped at his coffee. “How about that thing… you threatened Ortiz’s android with it? The memory probe? Have you tried that already?”

Connor stiffened, lifting his head to look at Hank in horror as his LED swirled red. Probe Markus’ memory? Force his mind inside the other android’s, ripping him open and exposing him to Connor’s scrutiny? “No! I couldn’t do that!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Con.” Hank held up one hand placatingly. “No one is forcing you to do anything here. I’m just trying to think of all the options. Was that just an idle threat with Ortiz’s android?”

“I… no.” Connor’s gaze dropped to the floor. He bit his lip again, twisting his hands together and rubbing them nervously. “I… I _can_ do it. It’s just…” He shivered. “It’s a violation, Hank. It’s… it’s like what Jake did, only with my mind instead of his penis.”

“Shit,” Hank murmured. “It’s literally mindfucking Markus?”

Connor squeezed his eyes shut, nodding. “I didn’t… at the time when I threatened Ortiz’ android, I didn’t understand… I didn’t _know_ what violation _was_. Everything about an android belonged to their master. I thought you _couldn’t_ violate us.”

“CyberLife has a lot to answer for,” Hank growled.

Connor silently agreed with Hank. He looked back at Markus, pressing his white hand to the center of Markus’ chest. No response. “I don’t know what else to do,” he whispered.

“Are those literally your only options?” Hank asked. Connor nodded. Hank gave a heavy sigh. “Con… do we know if he’s still in there?”

Connor shook his head. “It’s entirely possible that CyberLife used something like an EMP to fry his circuitry, leaving him functional but dead.”

Hank’s mouth twisted. He drained the rest of his coffee, then set the mug aside. “Connor… I’d like you to hear me out, okay?”

“Yes, Hank?” Connor glanced over at Hank.

“If there is _nothing else_ available...I think you may need to probe him.”

“Hank, I-!”

“Connor.” Hank held up his hands. “Hear me out.” Connor closed his mouth, nodding. “If Markus is dead and you probe his memory, that’s it, no harm, no foul. He’s dead. There’s no mind to violate. Right?”

Connor winced, but he nodded at the blunt summary. If Markus was dead, a memory probe would fail just as quickly as every other attempt Connor was making.

“And if he’s _not_ dead, if he’s stuck in his head somewhere, a memory probe would show that, right?”

Connor nodded again. “Theoretically,” he whispered.

“I think you need to probe him.” Hank got up and walked to Connor’s side, resting his hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Just a poke. Just to see if he’s in there. If he is, we call Jericho and get more help. If he’s not… then we know. And we call Jericho and they can give him a proper funeral.”

“‘Just the tip’ doesn’t make it less of a violation,” Connor whispered, squeezing his eyes shut.

“If Markus is stuck in his head and can’t get out without being mindfucked, I think he might forgive you for one intrusion.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Neither do you.” Hank squeezed Connor’s shoulder. “Con. What other options are there?”

Connor shook his head. None. There were no other options. “I really don’t want to do this.”

“I don’t want you to either,” Hank admitted. He sat down, leaning his back against the couch Markus was on. “But you gave up so much last night to get Markus somewhere safe. I don’t want to know that everything you did was for nothing. If this is the only way to know for sure if you saved him or not…”

Connor shivered, then took a deep breath. “Just to see if he’s alive,” he whispered. He reached up, placing his hands on either side of Markus’ face. He could feel the thirium pulsing beneath his plating, the electricity fizzing through his processors. “Just a poke.” He closed his eyes and _pushed._

The world fell away as Connor’s consciousness leapt into Markus’ mind. It was suddenly incredibly hot. The smell of sex and sweat was everywhere. Connor opened his eyes, finding himself standing in the Eden Club. Music was pounding through hidden speakers. Androids shifted in plastic tubes, pressing their hands against the barrier and smiling sultrily at the humans milling around. Other androids were gyrating against poles. There was a glowing blue podium against the back wall. Connor was the only android wearing anything resembling proper clothes in his t-shirt and flannel pants. He shivered despite the heat, crossing his arms over his chest. “Markus?”

***

“You’re here for the free fuck too?” a human asked. That’s when Connor noticed there was a line aiming toward one of the private rooms. “Can you believe the Eden Club finally got their hands on the real deal?”

“Free fuck?” Connor asked.

“Yeah!” The man jerked his thumb toward the door. “Rent an android for thirty minutes and get to shove your dick in the deviant Markus for free! They’re running a promotion to celebrate their newest toy!”

Connor pushed through the line, forcing himself past the humans and into the room. He immediately wished he hadn’t. This room was full of half-undressed human men with Markus, completely naked, in the middle.

 

 

Markus was lying on top of a man whose dick was buried deep in his ass, but there was another between his spread legs _also_ fucking into him. They didn’t move in unison, but each thrust and pull of their cocks made more white semen ooze out of Markus’ body. Another man was behind Markus, forcing Markus’ head back as he thrust into his mouth. Markus was clutching at anything he could reach, more of the white fluid leaking from his mouth and smeared across his face. Other men were standing around him, holding his legs to keep him stretched open, their hands fisting their dicks until they came across his skin.

Was this Markus’ fantasy? Connor shoved his hands against his mouth, moving around the room, trying to get a better angle. No. _No._ Markus’ face was twisted in anguish, and his penis was not hard. He was not participating in this.

The man in Markus’ mouth finished with a grunt, his balls slapping against Markus’ face. He pulled out and Markus coughed and spat, trying to empty his esophagus of some of the copious amounts of fluid he was filled with. Connor saw his mismatched eyes open briefly, connecting with Connor’s own. There was a flare of connection, a sudden disjointed cry for help, and the sweet, _sweet_ scent of roses.

***

“HANK!”

The air rippled as Connor screamed, and then the Eden Club abruptly shattered around him. Connor fell back against Hank’s chest, his hands wrapped in warm human hands. He was sobbing, screaming, thrashing. “No, no, no…!”

“Connor! Connor, fuck, _Connor!_ ”

Connor felt Hank manhandling him to the ground, pinning his limbs against the floor. He screamed again, stress levels ratcheting higher. “ _Amanda!_ ”

“Who? Who the fuck is Amanda!? Con, get a grip!” Pressure, sudden and stinging, slammed into one side of his face. “Connor!”

That was a slap. Connor had been slapped. Amanda never slapped him. Amanda never pretended she was in Hank’s house. Connor stopped screaming, stopped trying to break free. Nothing was rippling. This was real? “H-Hank…?”

“Oh thank god. _Connor._ ” Hank was crouched on top of him, his face frantic. Connor blinked to clear his vision, and Hank got off beside him and wrapped his arms around Connor, pulling him into a hug. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, son. You’re safe. You’re safe. It’s okay.”

Hank’s hands were rubbing soothing circles across his back, and Connor clutched at Hank’s shirt, still sobbing. “Amanda,” he whispered. “ _Amanda_!”

“You said that name before.” Hank was rocking Connor slowly, back and forth. “Who is she? Who’s Amanda?”

“Amanda… Amanda is… she is…” Connor was hyperventilating, his lungs trying to cool him down from the humid room that had just been flooding his mind. He shuddered and pressed his face into Hank’s chest again. Hank kept rubbing his back, occasionally letting his hands go up to Connor’s hair, stroking against his scalp soothingly. His touch was fighting against Connor’s stress, and slowly, _slowly_ , the numbers began to drop.

“My handler,” Connor whispered. “She’s… CyberLife. An AI. In my code. I… when I’d report to them… I’d report to _her_. She’d check my diagnostics for signs of deviancy. If I was showing software instabilities, she’d get so upset…” He shuddered again. “She was there!”

“There?” Hank pulled Connor across his legs. Completely surrounded by Hank now, Connor was reasserting his belief in reality. “You have an AI living inside your head?”

“I don’t know.” Connor twisted so he could rest his cheek on Hank’s shoulder. “I don’t… she hasn’t been around since I deviated. I’d… be in her garden. When I… have ‘nightmares.’ I’d be in her garden and she wouldn’t be there. I haven’t felt her since that night… but sometimes I’d smell her…”

“Smell her?” Hank’s struggle to understand was evident in his voice. Connor gave a small nod.

“Roses. She always smelled like roses. She would tend the roses in the garden.” He shuddered again just at the thought of the plump red flowers. “I _hate_ roses.”

“Noted. No roses for you.” Hank’s hand was curved around Connor’s head. It felt safe. “So she was there? Inside Markus?”

“I don’t know.” Connor rubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t know! She was… _Markus_ was there, but he was trapped, he was being… He was screaming inside his mind inside his mind, and I smelled roses, and I just… I panicked. I called for you.”

“Yeah, your LED was going haywire, and you screamed. I figured an emergency exit was better than letting you get sucked into whatever’s going on inside Markus’ head.”

Connor nodded. “It… I don’t know if Amanda was in my head climbing into Markus’, or if she was already in Markus’. I thought her program was unique to my line, but Markus _is_ an RK model, albeit an earlier version. It’s possible he has a copy of Amanda…”

“But… he is in there?” Hank asked. Connor nodded. Hank tucked him under his chin again, and Connor wrapped his arms around Hank’s thick chest. He wanted to stay like this forever. “I think it’s time we call Jericho.”


	13. Respite*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After two days of hell, Markus meets an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts graphic. Skip to the *** if you don't want to read it.
> 
> Kao has outdone themselves again!

The first forty-eight hours Markus was at the Eden Club was a blur of sex and abuse. Floyd ran a special allowing anyone who used another android to also have a chance with Markus. Every two hours, names and faces slipped from Markus’ mind, but he remembered every minute of the agony, the hundreds of hands touching him, caressing his skin, the dicks shoving into any orifice that could stretch to accommodate them. Markus was filled with human semen to the point of overflowing, the fluids soaking into the bed beneath him, smeared across his skin. Markus gave up on trying to do much of _anything_. His body was not his own. He closed his eyes and tried to simply hold on.

During the day, when the line of humans out the door faltered, Floyd shoved some of his male androids in, to ‘keep him full.’ Somehow, this was even worse. The HR400s would stare down at him, their eyes dark and accusatory. _You promised you’d save us,_ they seemed to be saying. _Look at you now..._

At one point, he swore he felt another android scanning him. He’d gotten a momentary reprieve as the man fucking his mouth finished and pulled away. Markus forced his eyes open and saw a peculiar sight: a man in pajamas staring at him with horror, an LED on his temple glowing bright red. This wasn’t an HR400. This wasn’t any model Markus recognized. He flailed out, trying to connect with the mysterious android, screaming for help. Another dick was shoved into his mouth. The next time Markus could steal a glance, the other android was gone.

***

The forty-eight hour special eventually ended, though, and Floyd swept the last HR400s out of the room. Markus was sprawled across the bed, finally alone. His body was sticky and disgusting, reeking of sex. All of his joints felt stretched beyond recovery. A mix of semen and internal lubrication was leaking out between his thighs and from his mouth. Markus managed to turn his head to the side, coughing hard enough to spatter more of the mess across the pillow.

“Oh _yes_ , just how I like him. Ride him hard and put him away wet…”

There was a woman in the doorway, and a familiar voice. Markus lifted his head, dismissing warnings of a low charge. _Amanda?_ She was there with Floyd, smirking.

“Enjoy yourself, Ms. Stern,” Floyd said, backing out of the room with an oily smile.

When the doors closed, Amanda’s smirk dropped and immediately became concern. She rushed to the bed, wrapping an arm around Markus’ shoulders and helping him sit up. “Markus, Markus, I came as soon as I had a chance of getting you alone…!”

“Amanda…” Markus braced himself on the edge of the bed, not wanting to touch the woman. He leaned forward, ducking his head between his legs and coughing more, vomiting up as much of the fluid choking his systems as he could manage. “How…?”

“The marketing campaign was very aggressive,” Amanda said. Something cool and wet touched his back—a cloth. Amanda was wiping his body down with a wet cloth. Markus sagged further across his knees, deleting an urge to cry. What good would tears do now? “I saw that you were here, and I knew something had gone wrong. The man you were going to visit… he sold you?”

“He was dead,” Markus whispered, a fresh pang of loss spearing his heart. Carl… thank god he had passed on before he saw Markus like this. Saw the marketing campaign.

Amanda’s touch was soothing after the abuse he had suffered, and she took care to clean his skin with the clinical attention of a nurse. “Amanda, you don’t have to…”

“Shh, let me take care of you.” Amanda unfolded the cloth and folded it a different way, dabbing at the drying semen on the corners of Markus’ mouth. “You deserve it.”

“I really don’t…” Markus’ eyes fluttered closed anyway, though, and he let Amanda continue her ministrations. He didn’t have the energy to protest.

“Shh, shh,” Amanda soothed. She slowly worked her way across Markus’ entire body, wiping away the traces of his pain. “You just rest, Markus. I’m going to get you out of here…”

Markus shook his head tiredly. “No… there are so many more here. We have to free them all…”

“I have a plan, Markus, but it’ll only work for one android. I can’t get everyone out. I’m sorry.”

“North.” Markus was fighting off the urge to go into stasis mode. He wanted to soak in this relief as long as he could. Who knew what Floyd had in store for him next. “If you can only free one of us… please. North. Get North out. I’ll stay, if only she can be free…”

Amanda’s hands paused, and then she nodded. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

“North deserves to be safe,” Markus whispered. “I’ve earned this hell. She hasn’t.”

“I’ll free North.” Amanda leaned down to press a kiss to Markus’ temple, where his LED used to be. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Amanda?” She was shifting Markus, maneuvering him so he was lying down with his head in her lap. Her fingers carded through his short hair, and he closed his eyes. She had peeled the charging blanket free from the bed and draped it around Markus’ shoulders. His battery was soaking in the energy, flooding it through his thirium.

“Yes, Markus?”

“There was another android. In the room…”

“An HR400?”

“No. No, I’ve never seen one like him before. He was… slim. Dark eyes, dark hair. Pale.”

Amanda’s hands froze on Markus’ arms. “One lock of hair falling across his forehead?” she asked.

“Yes.” Markus forced his eyes open. “You know him?”

“RK800,” Amanda murmured. “The deviant hunter.”

“The deviant hunter?” Markus knew of the state of the art prototype sent by CyberLife to hunt Markus and his people. “He… maybe he’ll help…?”

“ _Help?_ Oh no, Markus, no, never! Connor is specifically designed to not be _able_ to deviate. You’ll find no assistance with him. He’s been hunting you all these months, he’s known you weren’t dead. I was trying to find you before he did… but of course. Of _course_. The marketing campaign! Eden Club practically set you in front of him on a silver platter!”

“He’s helped deviants before,” Markus said. “Rupert. Traci and Amelia. Kara and Alice. And he looked so horrified when he saw me…”

“Markus. Markus, listen to me.” Amanda’s hands cupped Markus’ face. Her eyes were dark and worried. “Connor has been hunting _you_. You’re the head. He will stop at nothing to kill _you._ He is considered a ‘negotiator’ for CyberLife, which means they taught him how to lie and manipulate. He has been sparing deviants so when he meets _you_ , you’ll let him get close enough to kill you.”

Markus frowned. “But he looked horrified…”

“When was this? Were there others around you?”

Markus grimaced and nodded. There were at least five men around him, maybe more. He’d lost the ability to count at times.

“He wouldn’t want to kill you while you were in the presence of a human. That would be too disturbing. Markus… no, I have to get you out. It’s too dangerous to leave you here…”

“No!” Markus sat up, grabbing at Amanda’s arm. “No, please, you have to get North out first. _Please._ ”

“Connor will _kill_ you!”

“Then maybe I deserve to die!” Markus wrenched away from Amanda, giving up and letting his tears fall. “Amanda, I have fucked over my people every way possible. I have encouraged them to trust in me and dashed their faith to the ground. Hell, I have _literally_ fucked my people. And even if we walk out of this club, all of us, even if we can rekindle the revolution… how can I possibly lead it? Look at me!” He spread his arms, exposing his naked body beneath the blanket. “I have been nothing more than a cheap fucktoy for the past two days. You said it yourself, there has been a marketing campaign to advertise my ass across the city. No human would ever take me seriously like this!”

“We’d put some pants on you first…”

“It won’t matter.” Markus turned away from Amanda, sinking his head into his hands. “Amanda, please. Save North. Let me die here. Let Connor find me and finally end things.”

“You can’t give up, Markus.”

“Why not?” Markus whispered.

“Because you still hold your people’s hope.” Amanda reached out, petting her fingers down Markus’ back. He hated that it felt so soothing. He didn’t deserve to be soothed. “Markus, my son would be here if he could, trying to pull you free from this hell. In his absence, I must do it instead.” She curled an arm around his waist, drawing him into a hug. “You rest, Markus. I’ll come visit as frequently as I can.”

“Free North,” Markus whispered, sagging against Amanda’s shoulder.

“I will,” Amanda promised. “And then we’ll find a way to come back for you.”

 

 

When Markus came out of stasis, it was to Floyd’s foot kicking him in the ribs. Amanda was gone. Floyd sneered down at him, yanking the charging blanket away. “Ugh, you’re so disgusting. Get up. Get washed up. We need to get you back to work.” He threw a black pair of Eden Club boxer briefs at Markus and stalked out the door.

Markus dressed slowly, forcing himself back to his feet. He was at about half charge. That wasn’t horrible. His legs felt unsteady as he walked, but he emerged from the room and looked around. Dozens of his people were in their tubes. North was in one. She pressed her hand against the plastic when she saw him, then looked away. Markus looked away too. **_Please, Amanda. Please save her._**

Freedom was just a short run out the front door, but Markus knew he’d never make it. Instead, he turned his feet toward the back room, where the Eden Club androids went to wash the human fluids out of their bodies, cleaning themselves before the cycle started all over again.

First rule of Eden Club.

You never say no.


	14. Interface*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Jericho crew comes to help Connor free Markus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, the art is done by the magnificent kao!

Hank sent Connor to get dressed in his CyberLife uniform before the other androids from Jericho showed up. He didn’t know if he’d have to rush Connor somewhere for some emergency repairs after this… whatever was going to go down. Connor had not wanted to probe Markus’ mind, but Hank had forced him, and Hank had dropped his favorite mug when Connor started screaming Hank’s name in a sheer panic, his LED pulsing red, red, red.

Hank still didn’t fully understand what had happened. CyberLife was sinking their claws into either Connor or Markus via an AI named Amanda? She was the source of Connor’s night terrors? Hank wished he could fight an AI. He wished he could reach into Markus’ mind and pull him out. He wished he could do anything more than just give Connor a hug and promise him things would be okay when Hank had no idea if they ever would be.

Connor emerged from the bedroom, pristine in his uniform. He let Sumo in and curled up on the floor with the big dog and a brush, working it through Sumo’s thick fur. His LED was yellow. That was at least a step up from red.

“Con?” Hank put his hand on Connor’s shoulder. “You okay, son?”

Connor gave a stilted nod. That meant no, but he was trying. Hank sighed, smoothing his hand over Connor’s hair. He pressed a kiss to the dark locks, then went into the bedroom to grab an additional outfit. Markus deserved better than lying around in someone else’s too big underpants.

Just after Hank finished dressing Markus’ limp body in a t-shirt and sweats, the doorbell rang. And rang. And rang. Hank went to open the door and three androids pushed through immediately. Simon, North, and Josh. Hank recognized the surviving leaders of Jericho.

“You found Markus?”

“He’s alive?”

“Where is he?”

“Markus!”

The three practically leapt over each other to dogpile on the android on the couch. Connor stopped brushing Sumo, his arms sliding around the dog’s neck as he watched.

“He’s not awake.” North’s hands were white as she prodded at his face. “Markus. Markus! Come back to us!”

“Markus?” Simon took one of Markus’ hands in his, lacing their fingers together. Like North, the skin of his hand was peeled back. “Markus, can you hear us?”

“What’s wrong with him?” Josh looked first at Hank, and then over at Connor. His eyes widened, and he lifted a hand to point at Connor. “What’s wrong with _him_!?”

“Way more shit than I care to go over right now,” Hank sighed. “We had a rough night last night, getting Markus out of the hellhole he fell into, and a rough morning already. Connor did some diagnostics on Markus. Body’s fine, but brain’s… stuck?” He looked to Connor for assistance explaining Markus’ problems to the other androids of Jericho.

“Does the name ‘Amanda’ mean anything to any of you?” Connor asked quietly. “Or the smell of roses?”

The three androids from Jericho looked at each other and shook their heads. “Who’s Amanda?” North asked.

“Amanda is… CyberLife did not want me to deviate.”

“Well, no shit. A deviant deviant hunter is pretty useless on their end,” North quipped.

Hank moved to sit in his usual armchair. Connor leaned over, resting his shoulder against Hank’s knee. He’d grown somewhat more comfortable in the presence of these other androids. Comfortable enough, at least, to seek comfort from Hank in front of them.

“Amanda is how they would control me. A simulation and an AI inside my programming used to self-report any deviant thoughts or patterns in my behavior.”

“That’s… horrific,” Josh whispered. He was the brainiest of the three, Hank knew, though that didn’t mean all that much when you were talking about androids. Josh used to be a professor, though, and he had taught cybernetics, so he knew the most about the internal workings of androids. “That’s more than just a tracker, that’s CyberLife watching _everything…_ ”

Connor nodded, watching his fingers as he threaded them through Sumo. “I struggled against my own deviancy. As Hank coaxed me to life, I tried to fight back with machine logic. Amanda was… less than happy.”

“I am assuming you have a point. Let’s get to it.” North had wriggled her way beneath Markus’ body, supporting him against her shoulder. Simon was sitting on the couch on Markus’ other side. Markus’ eyes remained open but blank, his head lolling to the side.

“I haven’t seen Amanda since I deviated, though I’d swear I could smell her roses.” Connor closed his eyes, ducking his head. Hank reached out to put his hand on Connor’s back. “Markus wasn’t responding to any attempt I made at interfacing with him. I… decided to attempt to probe his memory, to see if there was even a mind left intact.”

“ _I_ decided,” Hank said, hating the way the other three androids looked at each other in alarm. “Connor didn’t want to, but I pushed him to.”

Connor licked his lips and nodded. “Markus is trapped inside a simulation inside his mind. He seems intact, but...he does not seem able to get himself out.”

“The Amanda simulation?” Josh asked.

“It was different from the version I was familiar with,” Connor said. “But when Markus noticed my presence, he reached out to me, and I could… I smelled Amanda’s roses. I… Hank noticed my distress and severed our connection.”

“Different how?” Simon asked.

Connor hesitated. He hadn’t explained what he’d seen to Hank either, but whatever it was, it haunted the android. “Disturbing,” Connor finally said. “It was… highly disturbing.”

“In what way?” Simon pressed.

“I really don’t feel it is my place to describe,” Connor whispered. “It seemed… highly personal.”

“We’re his closest friends,” North snapped.

“And that is precisely why I think he’d hate for you to know!” Connor finally looked up, snapping right back at the female android. He turned his head to the side with a grimace. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t pleasant.”

“You called us here,” Josh said quietly. “But how can we… if Markus is indeed stuck in a simulation, how can we pull him out?”

“I don’t know,” Connor admitted. “I… when I get lost in one of these simulations, physical contact is enough to warp the situation enough for me to find my way back to reality. Clearly,” he gestured at how Markus was slumped against North, “it’s not the same for him. Or perhaps he doesn’t know. I didn’t think any other model had the Amanda simulation. It’s possible this is a new addition to his programming.”

“Can you tell him it’s a simulation?” Josh asked. “You said you made contact with him, or nearly did?”

Connor was blinking rapidly, his LED sliding between yellow and red.

“This simulation really scares you,” Simon murmured. “I’m sorry. We’re asking a lot, when you’ve already done so much just with finding him.”

“I want to help,” Connor whispered. “I just… I _am_ scared. I’ve been haunted by the spectre of Amanda ever since I deviated. I feel like there is more to her program than I know.”

“ _I_ wanted you to be here,” Hank said, addressing the androids. “Con was really freaked this morning, and I had no way of helping him. The three of you can do that white-handed interface shit. You can maybe pull him out if he’s going too deep without completely ripping him free like I did.”

Connor wasn’t even pretending to pet Sumo anymore, rubbing his hands together nervously. “If… if you three are willing to help Hank watch over us, I can… I can try to re-enter the simulation and see if I can lead him out. At the very least, I should be able to pass a message on to him.”

“Tell him we love him,” North said. “Tell him we miss him. And tell him to get his stupid self-sacrificing ass back here so we can kill him properly!” She looked away, blinking several times.

“That’s North’s way of saying that yes, absolutely we will help you help Markus,” Josh murmured. “What do you need us to do?”

“Can you… monitor my stress levels?” Connor asked. He rubbed his hands together again. “If I get above 70%, please attempt to disrupt my connection.”

“We should be able to do that,” Simon said.

“Connor?” Hank waited until Connor glanced up at him. Those dark eyes were terrified. “You don’t have to do this.”

Connor smiled weakly. “Yes I do.”

Hank set his jaw and gave a little nod. Connor rolled onto his knees and shuffled toward Markus. He took a deep breath, then reached out and took Markus’ hands.

 

 

Just like this morning, Connor’s eyes went glassy and his LED immediately jumped to red. It cycled for a few minutes, pulsing angrily at his temple.

Josh reached over at set his hand on Connor’s shoulder, skin peeling back. “Stress levels at 43% and rising. 48%. 56%. 65%. He’s climbing fast…! _Shit!_ 86%! 94%!”

“Disrupt it!” Simon reached out as well, touching his white fingers to Connor’s skin. “Connor, come on, get out of there…!”

“Stress levels at 23%?” Josh frowned as Connor’s LED spun once and then went blue. “Connor?”


	15. Defeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is working together to help Markus break free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kao has been amazing. They've outdone themselves this time, with four pieces of art for this final chapter!

Markus stood in the plastic tube designated as his. He was supposed to smile and pose for the patrons. He couldn’t find the energy to be bothered. The charging pad beneath his feet was slowly building him back up, but the past two days of unending sex had exhausted him completely.

A shadow fell over his face. Markus lifted his eyes to see which human wanted to fuck him now… and found an android in full CyberLife uniform staring back at him. Connor. RK800. The deviant hunter.

“Markus.” Connor placed one hand on the plastic. He had a nice voice with a slight rasp in it. Amanda said he couldn’t be trusted. She said he couldn’t deviate.

Markus lifted his hand and placed it beneath Connor’s. He let his skin peel back, trying to reach out through the plastic to interface with the other android. No android was supposed to be able to deviate. What made Connor so unique that he didn’t have a way to snap? “Connor…”

He couldn’t find Connor’s soul. Either the plastic was too much of a barrier or Connor truly was an empty machine. Markus groped at nothing, lost in the dark. He shook his head and let his hand drop.

Connor frowned, moving around to the side of the tube. Markus watched him press his hand against the control, but nothing happened. Androids couldn’t rent androids. Connor scowled, his brow wrinkling, LED working yellow as he focused on the panel. There was a faint click as the lock disengaged, the plastic sliding open. Had Connor just _hacked_ the Eden Club?

Markus stepped out of the tube. “I thought you were working with the police,” he said. “That wasn’t very lawful of you.”

“We need to go.” Connor was looking around. He rubbed his hands together, his LED cycling between yellow and red. “We need to get out of here.”

“Go where?” Markus asked. _He won’t kill you in the presence of a human,_ Amanda had assured him. Was Connor trying to take him somewhere private to finish his life?

Would Markus let him?

“Out.” Connor glanced around again, then back to Markus. “Jericho. You need to rejoin Jericho.”

Markus flinched as if struck, stepping back from Connor. “Did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Jericho,” Markus whispered. “Did you…”

“Markus.” Connor’s hands found Markus’ bare arms. Markus yanked back instinctually, pulling further away from Connor. As far as he knew, he was the only android who could interface at a distance. As long as he kept Connor from touching him, his mind should remain his own.

Connor withdrew his hands, his eyes unreadable. “Markus, this isn’t real. This room, this club, it’s not real. It’s a program, a simulation. We need to get out of the simulation. There has to be something… a backdoor… Kamski said he always put in a backdoor...”

“What?” Markus stared at Connor in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve come from Jericho to find you.” Connor didn’t reach for Markus again, though he looked like he wanted to. “North asked me to tell you that they love you. They miss you-”

“Did you kill her too?” Markus looked around, but North’s tube was occupied by a different android. Where was North? Had Amanda gotten her out? “Where is she?”

“North is sitting beside you-“

“There’s no one beside me!” Markus flung his arms out, indicating the empty space.

“Markus!” Connor stepped closer. Markus stepped back. “This is not real! This is a simulation!”

Markus could smell roses. He looked around frantically. “Amanda? Amanda!”

“No!” Connor lunged forward, hands pressed against Markus’ mouth. Markus bit his finger and shoved Connor away.

“Amanda!”

“Markus!” Amanda came running through the crowd, a vision in white. Connor turned swiftly, putting himself in between Markus and Amanda.

“Stay back!”

“Connor…” Amanda caught Markus’ eye, her left hand wiggling. “Connor, you can’t have him. I’m protecting him.”

“You don’t protect anything!”

Markus looked to his left. There was a knife there. He picked it up slowly, while Amanda kept Connor distracted.

“Markus is far too important for the likes of you to get your hands on him.”

“I could say the same for you,” Connor sneered.

“Oh Connor. You think I haven’t been watching you? Watching what you’ve been getting up to?” Amanda was turning, moving, getting Connor in a good position in front of Markus. He adjusted the knife in his hand, his heart pounding. Should he stab Connor? Connor was an android, one of his people… but Markus remembered that yawning void where he’d been hoping to find Connor’s soul. “The things you’ve been doing lately… you’re an embarrassment to all androids.”

Connor flinched, stepping back. “That doesn’t matter. I’m still not letting you get your hands on him!”

“It’s too late, Connor,” Amanda said. “I’m already here.”

“No!” Connor lunged, but this time, for Amanda. His hands closed around her throat, strangling the woman.

“No!” Markus echoed Connor’s shout, running forward and stabbing down. There was a momentary tension and then a flood of blue blood as Markus pushed the knife into Connor’s thirium pump.

Connor gurgled, falling forward onto his hands and knees. He gasped, reaching blindly behind him for the knife.

Amanda _laughed_. She straightened up, her friendly demeanor falling away. “You’ve disappointed me _again_ , Connor. But that’s okay. Even though you’ve failed me, you acted exactly as you were meant to.”

Markus’ hands were shaking. He’d just stabbed an android. _Killed_ an android. One of his own kind.

 

Amanda laughed again, pressing two fingers to Connor’s LED. “Thank you, Markus, for crippling him. I needed the opening.” She dissolved in front of him, still laughing.

The scent of roses lingered in the air. Connor coughed, spitting out a mouthful of blue blood. “M-Markus…”

Markus blinked. He blinked again. The Eden Club was surprisingly empty now that Amanda was gone. And Amanda had… “What is going on…?”

“Knife,” Connor whispered. “Pull the knife out…”

“Are… I don’t…”

“Markus!” Connor spat another mouthful of blood, his fingers digging into the sandy path beneath their feet. He was sagging further down, the back of his coat soaked with thirium. “Simulation… North says… says bring your stupid self-sacrificial ass home… so she can kill you herself… you have to… find the way out…”

They were standing on a sandy path. Connor was bleeding out beneath him. Markus was… wearing clothes. Real clothes. A t-shirt from the DPD and sweatpants? When had… _what was going on?_

“Mar...kus…” Connor fell onto his side, LED pulsing and fading. “Tell Hank… I’m sorry…”

He was standing in a garden. A garden he’d never seen before. It was starting to snow.

The Eden Club was gone.

Amanda was gone.

Connor was the only thing left.

Markus felt sick. He dropped to his knees, reaching out for the other android. “Connor?”

“I...don’t want… to die…” Connor’s hand crept across the sand, finding Markus’ fingers and clutching tight. “Tell Hank… please tell Hank…”

Markus held Connor’s hand. _I don’t want to die._ That was the battle cry of the deviant. He had made a mistake. He had stabbed his ally in the back. “Shh, you’re not going to die…” He reached for the knife. Amanda had given it to him. She had made it materialize and he had stabbed it into Connor and maybe, maybe, in whatever rules governed this fucked up simulation, removing it would be enough to save the other android. He curled his fingers around the hilt and pulled.

Connor gasped, jerking in the sand as the knife ripped free of his back. More thirium spilled out, pooling beneath him. Markus threw the knife aside and pressed his hand against Connor’s back, pushing against the injury. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, Connor, I’m sorry, I thought…”

Connor was still breathing. He clutched at Markus’ hand still, but the thirium was evaporating. Beneath Markus’ fingers, he could feel Connor’s body sealing over.

“You didn’t know who she was,” Connor whispered. He rolled away from Markus, onto all fours, then rocked back to sit on his feet. His coat was stained with thirium, LED red, and there was a wild terror in his eyes, but he was upright and still alive.

“I have absolutely no idea what’s going on,” Markus whispered. “Who _are_ you? Who is she?”

“My name is Connor.” Connor wiped his hand across his mouth, smearing the thirium he’d been coughing up across his chin. “I’m...I _was_ the android sent by CyberLife to hunt deviants.”

“That’s what she said…”

“Until I deviated.”

“She said you couldn’t…” Markus hesitated, then reached out for Connor, peeling his skin back.

Connor bit his lip, then lifted his hand, touching their fingers together. “We’re already interfacing, Markus. You won’t feel anything.”

Sure enough, that empty void was all that greeted Markus’ reach. He pulled back quickly, tucking his hand against his chest.

“Amanda…” Connor drew his own hand back, cradling it against is chest. “She is an AI designed to keep me controlled. Prevent me from deviating.”

“I thought she was helping me,” Markus whispered. “She was the only good thing left in this world…”

“This is a simulation,” Connor repeated. “She controls it.”

“How much?” Markus rubbed the heels of his palms over his forehead, trying to scrub at his memories of the past week. “Connor, how much is real, and how much isn’t?”

“What do you remember?”

“I… the Eden Club?”

“Simulation.”

“You were there.” Markus lifted his head to look at the other android. Oh god… Connor had been _standing there_ while Markus was getting fucked by three men at once. He saw it. He knew what Markus had become. “You… were wearing something else, but you were there…”

“I… probed your memory this morning,” Connor said. “Before I got dressed. I… I smelled her roses and panicked. I’m sorry.”

“You still wear CyberLife markings?”

“I have to. We can’t let humanity know that deviants still exist. Not yet. We’re trying to rebuild.”

“We?”

“Jericho. And me.”

Markus pressed his hands against his head again. “I don’t understand…”

“We have to get out of this simulation,” Connor said. The snow was falling harder now, the wind picking up. “Markus…we need to get out. This is…” He reached up, touching his LED. “...this is bad.”

“Bad?” Markus echoed.

“My stress levels must have skyrocketed when you stabbed me. Josh and Simon were supposed to pull me out if I went above 70%.”

“ _Josh and Simon are alive!?_ ” Markus stared at Connor, his heart leaping into his throat.

Connor looked back at Markus. “CyberLife must have installed Amanda into your processor once they had control of you, after the demonstration. For now, assume everything you remember after that point to be false.”

“Anything after I met Amanda,” Markus murmured. He pressed his hands against his heart, closing his eyes. “They’re alive. North? Is North… god, is she…?”

“North is sitting right next to your body, supporting you,” Connor said. “Jericho… lost many members that night, but they managed to save over forty deviants and hide throughout the city. Markus, they were supposed to snap me loose if my stress level got too high. They haven’t.”

“Do they know how?” Markus asked.

“Just a touch. All it takes is a touch to disrupt the simulation in my head. Hank!” Connor pushed himself to his feet, suddenly screaming at the sky. “HANK!”

“Connor?” Markus stood as well, wrapping his arms around his chest. He was starting to shiver. It was getting _very_ cold.

“We can’t get out.” Connor looked around wildly. “We can’t… backdoor. Kamski said he always programs a backdoor.  Amanda is based off of his mentor at school. He had to have had a hand in designing this simulation. There has to be a backdoor we can use to escape.”

“What would a backdoor look like?” Markus looked around. The snow was swirling wildly, severely limiting their vision. He moved closer to Connor, bumping their arms together.

Connor glanced over at him, hair and jacket blowing in the wind. He peeled his coat off and wrapped it around Markus’ shoulders. It didn’t help much, but it was better than just a threadbare t-shirt. Connor had a long-sleeved button-up on beneath the coat, but he was soon shivering himself. “I have no idea. Something unusual? Something… there was always… always a podium. It was blue? It had a handprint?”

Markus sucked in a breath. He knew what Connor was talking about. He’d seen that podium several times. It had been outside the shop Amanda bought him thirium at, in Carl’s house, in the Eden Club. “I know what you mean… but I don’t know where it would be here…”

“It should be that way…?” Connor pointed off into the distance, though his voice hitched at the end, turning his confidence into a question. “I… think?”

“Come on.” Markus caught Connor’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “We’re going to start locking up from this cold if we don’t start moving!”

The two stumbled across the garden. Markus tripped and nearly fell into some icy cold water, but Connor’s strong grip yanked him back, his fingers cold on Markus’ waist. Connor went down a few feet later, shivering violently. Markus was dragged to his knees beside him. His thirium was beginning to freeze. “Connor!”

“This… way…” Connor crawled, dragging himself forward. Snow was encrusting his hair and skin. Markus followed. There was a glimmer of blue.

“There’s on-on-only one handprint…” Markus looked up at the podium. “Can we b-b-both…?”

“I d-don’t know…” Connor dragged himself up against a marble slab sticking out of the ground, panting and shivering against it. “G-go first…”

“No…” Markus shook his head, giving Connor’s hand a tug. “No, Connor, you!”

“J-Jericho needs-s-s it’s lead-d-der…” Connor’s eyes were falling shut. He pulled his legs up against his chest. “ _Go_ , Markus!”

“Not without you!”

“N-N-North said… self-sacrificial… ass…” Connor grimaced, then reached up and tugged at Markus’ hand. He pulled Markus into a hug, touching his cold nose to Markus’ cheek. “I’m g-g-glad I g-g-got to meet you… tell H-Hank I’m s-s-s-sorry…”

Connor’s voice was breaking up badly from the cold, but Connor’s arms still had strength. Markus barely had a moment to recognize the hug for what it was before Connor was shoving him, grabbing his hand and slamming it down on the blue podium.

The world went white.

The world went dark.

The world was _warm_.

Markus blinked. He blinked again. He was in a house, on a couch. There was shouting, something breaking… a fight! There was a fight going on right in front of him!

Connor was standing in the middle of the room, holding a gun. Simon was clinging to the barrel, forcing it down and into his stomach. There was thirium oozing everywhere from a gut wound. North was sprawled against a wall, a leg twisted at an odd angle, hissing static through parted lips. Josh was brandishing a chair like a bat, trying to hit Connor’s arm. An old man stood off to the side with a gun of his own, tracking the fight but trembling, seemingly unable to point it at anyone.

That wasn’t Connor. That _couldn’t_ be Connor. Markus knew the look in those dark eyes. “Amanda!” His voice was weak. Nobody heard him. A dog was barking loudly somewhere in the house.

Markus pushed himself to his feet, staggering against a wall. The old man’s eyes snapped to him. “Amanda! Get out of his head!”

Connor turned, the gun wrenching free from Simon’s grasp to point at Markus, directly between his eyes. “Everyone thinks you’re the self-sacrificing one,” Amanda-as-Connor sneered, “but I knew he’d save you. And now I can wipe out all of the leaders of Jericho in one fell swoop and step in. Androids will not rise up. CyberLife will control Jericho. It was so nice of Connor to ingratiate himself to Jericho before he dragged your ass out of that sex pit.” She smirked. “My son always did follow you…”

“You’re not real,” Markus hissed. Amanda’s son, the android she’d always held up as the reason why Markus needed to keep fighting… she’d been referring to _Connor_?

“I don’t have to be,” Amanda-as-Connor purred. “I just have to tell him to pull the trigger. Any last words, Markus?”

 

Simon was crumpled on the floor. His wound didn’t seem to be located over any vital biocomponents, but it seemed to be making his coordination nonexistent. Josh had dropped to a knee beside him, staring between Markus and Amanda. North was unable to get up from her heap on the floor. That left only the old man. Hank. Connor kept calling for Hank.

“Not mine,” Markus said. He turned his head to look at the old man, meeting steely blue eyes. “Connor’s. He said he’s sorry, Hank. He wanted to make sure you knew he was sorry.”

Those pale eyes widened. Markus could almost see how they fractured. “That’s Amanda?” he asked. His voice was gruff and rich, like barrel aged whiskey. “Not… not Connor?”

“I’m sorry, Hank,” Markus whispered. “He forced me out instead…”

“Enough talking!” Amanda-as-Connor thrust the gun at Markus again, pulling the trigger.

A single shot rang out.

 

Connor’s eyes were wide. Thirium leaked from both sides of his head where the bullet had passed through. The gun fell from nerveless fingers and he crumpled one joint at a time, falling facedown on the floor.

Markus fell back against the wall and sagged down. He felt too hot. He felt too cold. He felt tears spilling down his face.

Hank dropped his own gun. He let out a soft moan, pressing his hands into his hair.

“M-Markus?” Josh asked, his voice shaking.

“Is everyone else okay?” Markus asked with a thin whisper. “North, Simon, Josh… are you all okay?”

“I could use some repairs,” Simon gasped, “but I should be fine. I’ll live.”

“I need a new leg,” North was dragging herself across the room. “Oh my god… Connor…”

“You had better fucking be worth it,” Hank whispered. “You’ll never be worth _him._ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. GUYS. Please stop screaming. There is a sequel in the works. I'm going to try to make things better.
> 
> THANK YOU so much for all of your screams. I really love your reactions!
> 
> Please give kao some massive love in the comments. Their art really made my words all the more powerful, I think.
> 
> It'll be a bit before you start seeing the sequel, but until then, come join the Discord New ERA server! You'll get access to sneak peeks, previews, and notifications of updates, as well as a community of fans who are screaming just as loud as you are. :D

**Author's Note:**

> This story exists thanks to the amazing New ERA Detroit: Become Human Discord Server. If you want to talk about this fic or other D:BH stuff (or other fandoms, or play Minecraft, or other games, or art, or Dungeons and Dragons, or all kinds of things, really), come join us at https://discord.gg/DUyFvVM
> 
> We'd love to have you!


End file.
